Hoofbeats
by Scriverane
Summary: AU Romantica. Misaki, working as a stableboy for the royal Usami family, had no idea what meeting a stranger in his favorite horse's stable one morning would cause. Neither did the stranger.
1. Out of the Gate

**Disclaimer: _Junjo Romantica_'s not mine. I'm only playing in the sandbox.**

**I thought of the idea for this story a while ago, while playing **_**Chaos Rings**_**. Two of the characters in that game are a princess and her stable boy (more or less), so that's where this came from. Their positions in life are about the only thing that are the same between this story and that game, but I want to give credit where credit is due. :)**

**Anyway, this story's setting is a fantasy-like kingdom, yet there's no actual elements of fantasy – no magic, no dragons... okay, maybe they'll be a unicorn, I haven't decided yet, but that's it. **

**I plan for this story to be around eleven chapters, give or take. My goal is to complete this by the end of November.**

**All reviews welcome.**

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Chapter One: Out of the Gate

The dawn claimed a new day with its usual warmly colored spectacle, and Misaki, green eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep, was there to greet it.

His day started as it always did, with walking through the Royal Stables, eying every horse in turn: the Camarillo White named Sugarbell, an Appaloosa called Oaktree, Summermist the Arabian and its purebred foal Whitewinter (the stallion, Autumnal, had been sold off long ago for a princely sum), the one non-horse which was the Shetland pony named Redsun, and so on until he reached the one who he always took proper care of first, his favorite, a Cylesdale called Suzuki.

As a stableboy, he probably shouldn't have a favorite, but he couldn't help it; Suzuki was the one with the most normal name, and by far the most openly affectionate. On Misaki's first day, Suzuki had just been born, to another horse called Suzuki - also not the first Suzuki, he'd been told - and the mother Suzuki had apparently gone through a problematic pregnancy, as she was slowly dying. His boss had told him not to bother with it, the foal would be culled as soon as its mother succumbed, but Misaki had seen the older Suzuki, sick beyond measure, desperately trying to take care of her foal. He'd spent his first few months working overtime, researching on how to take care of young horses and becoming the best surrogate mother for the tiny Suzuki he could.

After all, his own mother had died birthing him, his father succumbing years later from a sudden heart attack their neighbors had poetically called heartbreak, so Misaki felt a kinship with Suzuki he didn't feel with the other horses.

As he opened the gate to her stable this morning, she whinnied and trotted over, rubbing her muzzle against him affectionately. He patted her face, ignoring the stink radiating off her; she really needed a good wash.

"Hello, Suzuki-san, how are you this morning?" he asked the horse, and she gave a low whinny in response. He smiled at her and went off to get her grooming supplies in the corner of her stable.

That's when he saw him.

In the farthest corner of Suzuki's stable was a man, curled up as if in deep pain. His hair looked a dull, dirty grey, and Misaki couldn't tell if it needed to be washed to display its natural color or if it currently _was_ its natural color. His skin was pale, so pale he seemed sickly, and his clothes were covered with so much dirt, probably from staying over night in the stables, that Misaki couldn't even guess at his rank.

"Hey," he called out, trying to get the man's attention. He used the same speech patterns he would with any of his commoner equals. He didn't know his social rank, but he was hiding out in the stables, so he figured he couldn't be much higher than him.

The man looked up, and Misaki nearly gasped. The man's eyes were rimmed with more red than Misaki had seen in his own in the mirror this morning, as if from something more than simple lack of sleep. But his irises... despite the redness, he had never seen such amazing eyes, all because of those irises. They were a violet color, his favorite, a beautiful hue the same as the amethyst he'd seen on his mother's wedding ring. The man's were so clear and open that Misaki felt the inexplicable urge to tell him his deepest troubles.

He shook it off. "You should get up. The ground of a horse's stable is no place to sit." When the man didn't move, only continued to stare at him, Misaki just rolled his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to be polite this early in the morning to some stranger who'd spent the night in the stables, so he went for incredibly blunt. "It's covered in horse shit."

At that, the man finally stood up, and was Misaki was relieved to see Suzuki had not recently used that place to take care of her bodily functions. The filth on the man's clothing was just dirt, then. Good. Misaki would rather like to avoid having to deal with a stranger covered in excrement.

"You're not supposed to be here," he told the man as he grabbed Suzuki's comb off the wall. "These are the royal stables, and this filly here is Prince Akihiko the fifth's personal horse." _Not that he ever comes out here to see her,_ he thought sourly, but kept his criticisms of the royal family to himself. "I doubt he'd like some stranger mucking around her stable." For some reason, the man only looked amused. Misaki sighed as he began to groom Suzuki's coat. "Well, if you're not going to leave, you could at least tell me your name."

"You can call me Usagi," the man said, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down Misaki's spine. While Usagi's voice was hoarse, it also had a some deeper vocal quality to it that was quite lovely. Misaki was sure that without the hoarseness, the man's voice alone could reduce the average naive young maiden to a quivering mess.

He peered at the man. Looking at him properly, Misaki was certain that, cleaned up and fresh, the man cut an attractive figure. With those eyes and that voice, he could probably have the hand of any maiden of equal class he desired. That didn't explain the man's name choice, though.

_Rabbit?_ The man didn't resemble a rabbit at all, but instead was tall with a lithe muscularity, rather, Misaki thought, like that of the horses cared for. If anything, Misaki himself was closer to be like the rabbit of the man's chosen namesake.

_Nice way to remind me of my shortness, brain_.

"Aren't you going to report me to the guards?" Usagi said, distracting Misaki from his thoughts.

"Huh? Uh, no, I'll just let you off with a warning." _Besides, it's not like the guards would care. As long as he's not trying to steal one of the Queen's prized Arabians, I doubt they'd bother themselves with him._

As if reading Misaki's thoughts, he said, "What if I'm a horse thief?"

"If you are, you're a lousy one," he replied. "I wouldn't report you out of sheer pity." Usagi looked amused again. "No, you must be here for some other reason." Suzuki whinnied and Misaki looked at the brush in his hands. "You hungry, girl?" Suzuki responded with a neigh. "I'll get your feed."

As he walked to put away the brush and gathered the horse's feed of hay and grain he heard Usagi say, "What about heartbreak?"

Misaki's mind had to strain to figure out Usagi's meaning. Then he remembered what he'd said to him last. _Someone broke his heart._ "Girl you like getting married to some other bloke?" he asked, filling Suzuki's trough with hay.

"Something like that," Usagi replied.

"Well, that doesn't explain why you ran off to the royal stables." He checked the water available for Suzuki.

"It's peaceful here. It's... a good place to be alone."

Misaki could understand that. Even with the noise of the horses, the stables were far more private and quiet than the loud ruckus of Tokisho, the man city, or the castle that Tokisho surrounded - though he'd only been inside the castle once or twice, his memory of the ordered chaos inside was crystal clear.

"That doesn't give you the right to just come here as you please," he said as he prepared to do the more disgusting duty of taking care of Suzuki. There was a reason it had been so easy for his brother to get him a job at the stables.

"Anyway, my superiors start around noon," he said, _damn bastards, took to starting as late as they could as soon as they got the chance_, "so you should go before they get here."

"I'll take my leave then," Usagi said, and Misaki ignored the strange desire to ask him to stay. He must be really desperate for someone to talk to. _Me or Usagi?_ He ignored that thought.

"Have a good day," Misaki said, as was his habit. It was always good to be polite, unless, of course, you were dealing with a stranger squatting in the corner of the horse's stable.

Usagi stopped for a moment. "I'll try to," he said. "See you tomorrow."

"See you." He started to add some more hay to the stable floor before it hit him what Usagi had just said. _Wait, what? Tomorrow?_ "Hey, wait!" He turned around to discover Usagi had already left. "Strange fellow," he mumbled to himself.

Suzuki just snorted into her food.

* * *

"Nii-chan, I'm home!" Misaki called out as he arrived into the modest cottage he and his brother called home. The sun had already set, as he'd spent the rest of the time after work - not that there was much of it - at market. He planned to eat dinner and than collapse into sleep._ Only to get up before dawn tomorrow_, he mentally grumbled. If he didn't have occasional days off, like the serfs ranked below him, he didn't know what he would do.

"Ah, welcome home, Misaki!" His elder brother, Takahiro, said, giving him a warm smile. "I have some good news!"

"What is it?" he asked, then noticed his brother's girlfriend standing in the hallway. "Hi, Manami," he said. Manami was Takahiro's coworker in the royal kitchens. They'd been dating for well over a year now.

"Manami and I are getting married!" Misaki put down what he'd bought on the nearest table and lept forward to hug his brother.

"Ah, Nii-chan, that's wonderful!" he said.

"Yep, we just got the approval this afternoon!" Suddenly he looked very sheepish. "You would have been the first person we told, but Prince Akihiko was there when we handed in our application yesterday..."

"That's fine," Misaki said, waving it off. Though Misaki had never met the very private Prince Akihiko - or even seen him in pictures - Takahiro had meet him when King Fuyuhiko had sent the prince to attend the same commoner school his brother had, trying to demonstrate the supreme quality of the peasant's school system. The prince had only attended the school for a year, but the two had become fast friends, somehow keeping up correspondence over the years.

"Tonight Manami and I made a big celebratory dinner!" Misaki was about to protest, as they'd been cooking all day, but Takahiro cut him off. "No complaints! Manami and I took the day off, so we just cooked for ourselves today." He gave Misaki a huge grin. "Come now, let us feast! The wedding's in three months."

Misaki just shrugged and joined his brother in the celebrations. He wasn't going to sleep till late tonight, but, somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

As Misaki prepared for bed that night, he examined his mother's wedding ring. He'd been given it upon his father's death, his brother getting his father's.

He looked it in the low firelight of the kerosene lamp, examine the fine gemstones set in the silver. The largest stone was the amethyst, his father's birthstone, set in the middle, flanked by two smaller variants of his mother's birthstone of peridot. The ring, like all wedding rings, had been sanctioned by the kingdom, though his parent's marriage nearly had not. His mother had been the daughter of some minor noble, thus the silver color of the band of her ring; his father, meanwhile, had come from a more typical hardworking peasant family, indicated by the bronze of his ring. Even worse, their zodiac signs had been shown to be incompatible, which made the approval all the more difficult. In the end, his mother had relinquished her social status in all but the metal of her ring, paying a substantial "fee" - a bribe, really - to get the marriage approved.

His brother and Manami had run into no problems, as they were both of the same rank and had compatible zodiac signs. Their rings were going to be really boring-looking - garnet and ruby on bronze - but Misaki figured that didn't really matter as long as they were in love.

His mother's ring was really gorgeous, though. He took one last look at the amethyst before he went to bed, the memory of amethyst colored eyes flashing in his mind.

He remembered the last thing Usagi had said and wondered if the man would really be there tomorrow as sleep claimed him.

* * *

Misaki really wasn't surprised to see Usagi greeting him at Suzuki's stable when he arrived to start his day's work. What he was surprised to see was Usagi dressed in the work clothes of the royal stables, the badge upon his chest stamped with the seal of the Royal House of Usami, confirming his right to be there.

_So that's what he meant by "see you tomorrow"_. The man's hair was silver, as it turned out, not the more dirty grey he'd seen yesterday. His eyes, far less red then they wear yesterday, looked even more stunning. "Hello there, Usagi," he greeted. "What's your shift?"

"Dawn 'till noon," he replied.

_He gets off three hours earlier than I do, huh? He must not need money as badly. _ "You can start with a different horse, if you'd like," he told him as he watched him trying to figure out how to brush Suzuki's coat without making her glare at him.

"No, I'd much rather start where you do," he said.

_Well, he's got to learn the ropes, so I can't say that's an unreasonable request._

"Alright then," Misaki said. "You continue grooming her; I'm going to get the feed."

"So, did you have a good day yesterday?"

"Huh?" Misaki turned his head to eye Usagi at his bizarre way of starting a conversation. "Uh, yeah. My brother announced that he's marrying his girlfriend in three months time."

There was a strange silence in the air. "Your brother?"

Misaki shoveled feed into the trough, not bothering to look at Usagi as he answered his question. "Yeah, Niichan's ten years older than me; pretty much raised me. He's an amazing person - kind, smart, all those good things you'd never believe could be in one person. He got me this job; he works over in the kitchens - he's a brilliant cook, too. Manami's a lucky woman." The trough was full, so Misaki turned around. At that point he caught a glimpse of Usagi's face; the man had the strangest look schooled on his features.

"What's your name?" The way Usagi said that question sounded so grave, Misaki almost laughed.

"Takahashi Misaki," he told him, and checked Suzuki's water. "Now, about feeding, you want to start with - " He turned to look at the man again and promptly stopped his lesson. "Usagi?"

Usagi looked like he was about to faint, his face a few tints paler than it was before. He was breathing heavy, too. What was wrong?

"Usagi?" he tried again, and Usagi looked at him, and Misaki thought he suddenly looked incredibly like his namesake.

"Your brother... is Takahiro?"

Did Usagi know his brother? "Yes..."

"I see," Usagi said, breaking eye contact for a moment before looking at him again. "It seems I can't get away..." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I love your brother."

For moment, something in Misaki's chest clenched so tight he'd felt as though it would sear the pain onto him, like a morbid tattoo. Usagi looked so sad; his expression reminded Misaki of the early memories of his brother's face in the wake of his father's death.

"I thought you should know," Usagi said, his voice painfully soft.

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know," he said, and looked away.

The silence felt like a tangible weight in the air, thick and heavy. For a moment, Misaki couldn't think, couldn't figure out what to say, how to comfort him or if he even should. He barely knew the man, and yet the almost-stranger had told him something so secret so openly; he didn't know quite what to make of it.

Suzuki let out an impatient whinny, singling she was done eating, and Misaki shook off whatever had overcome him. He walked over to take care of Suzuki, Usagi having wandered off to the corner of the stall to brood. As he finished taking care of Suzuki, his mind whirled with a flurry of thoughts. _He loves my brother? How does he even know him? Wouldn't that make Usagi..._

"Usagi?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you know your feelings for my brother aren't just friendship?"

Usagi looked at him, a weird mix of pain and amusement on his face. "Many reasons," he said. "But most of all, because I think of him - dream of him – sexually."

Misaki felt himself blush.

"I yearn for that mingling of tongues and sweat and desire, to be able to touch him without restraint, to feel every centimeter of his naked skin, to taste him on my tongue, to mouth his co –"

"Enough already!" Misaki shouted, having managed to find his voice. He face felt ad though it was being licked by flames, he was shaking slightly, and there was a strange twisting feeling in his gut. He _really_ didn't want to think about Usagi and his brother having sex – how would that even work? Not that he wanted to know! "You shouldn't think of my brother that way!"

Usagi just stared at him. "Why?"

"Because he's innocent and normal and not like you at all! If he knew, he'd be disgusted!" _That's not true, he'd feel sorry for him - _

Usagi was looking at him with anger now, and he grabbed Misaki and pushed him against a clean part of the wall.

Misaki felt his eyes widen. "Usagi...?"

The man pushed his body right next to his, leaving little space. His lips ghosted above Misaki's neck.

"Disgusted, you say?"

Misaki's body felt as though it was on fire. The pressure and feel of Usagi's body against his made him feel aroused and oversensitive, his skin prickling, and Usagi's breath against his neck causing shivers of pleasure against his spine.

Usagi shifted against him, and Misaki felt arousal stirring in the pit of his stomach, like a fire was starting that he couldn't stop. He was getting hard from Usagi's simple movements, and Usagi pressed his leg between his crotch, making Misaki moan out loud, much to his utter embarrassment. He jerked his leg and Misaki could barely contain himself.

"Disgusting, huh? Is it disgusting how I imagine him, naked and sweaty beneath me, pleading and begging for me to touch him, kiss him, love him? Or is it digusting because I imagine doing those things, giving him pleasure, loving his body as well as his soul?"

Misaki was shaking now, every part of his body straining towards Usagi, his heat. The man's lips did not touch him, only hovered over skin, but even those actions were driving him mad. _What's wrong with me? I'm not...!_

Just as he was about to climax, Usagi stepped away, letting him slump to the floor. Misaki looked at him. Usagi glared at him, his eyes forming slits.

"You bastard..." Misaki muttered, thoroughly shaken, his heart beating so fast he thought it might race out of his chest, like a galloping horse.

"I could have any woman I want, you know. They fall all over themselves just to get me to look at them."

_What is he talking about? I mean, yeah, he's attractive, but..._

"Yet," Usagi continued, "somehow, the only one I truly I want is the one I can't have. That's what truly disgusts me."

Usagi's face was contorted in a look of disgust, anger, and hopeless. Despite all he'd just done, Misaki couldn't help but ask, "Doesn't it just hurt?" Something clicked in his brain. "That's why you feel disgusted, because it hurts, and you're angry at your feelings for causing such pain..."

Usagi glared at him, then stalked off, saying nothing.

Misaki wasn't certain what had just happened, but he knew he needed to get to a bathroom as quickly as possible.

He wasn't about to quit his job, but, _damn_, it had just gotten a whole lot harder.


	2. Walk

**Sorry for taking so long with this chapter; school got in the way. **

**If anyone sees any grammar/factual mistakes, please tell me. I'm not adverse to doing revisions. For that matter, I've corrected some things (mostly grammar) in chapter one. **

**All reviews are loved and appreciated. I couldn't thank the unsigned reviews last chapter personally, so I'm thanking those of you who reviewed who I can't PM. Every review I get motivates me and keeps me going, so thank you so much to all of you. For that matter, thanks to anyone who favorited (I consider that a "thumps up") or put this story on alert (I consider that a sign of interest). All of these things are very encouraging and make my day. :)  
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**Anyway, onwards. **

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* * *

**Chapter Two: Walk

Over the next few days, Usagi didn't say or do anything to Misaki that was like what he'd done the second time they'd met. He hadn't apologized, either, but Misaki didn't mind, preferring to avoid the subject; it made his heart pound and his palms sweat just to think about it, and not exactly in an unpleasant way – but he didn't want to think about why that was, either.

Usagi tried to do his job as a stable-hand to the best of his abilities, which, as Misaki soon learned, wasn't exactly much.

He'd tried to use a curry comb on one of the horse's legs, which was a difficult enough task, and Usagi wasn't exactly gentle with it; even worse, he tried to use it on the Campolina, Galestorm, who had always been particularly sensitive about grooming – not that Usagi should know that, but, still, when Misaki had told him, he'd just given Misaki a bland stare. He'd had several tries with the dandy brush, only to show complete inability to understand the flicking motion even after Misaki had demonstrated for it the umpteenth time, causing the horses to become extremely irritated at Usagi's every attempt. Misaki hadn't even dared to let him try to tend to the feet, as he'd somehow managed to mess up something as simple as cleaning the horses with a towel – how, Misaki wondered, did Usagi make them look dirtier _after _being cleansed with a clean, soapy cloth? He never got the correct amount of feed for any of the horses, and when Misaki had finally, in a moment of total exasperation, told him to just fill each horse's water bucket, he'd managed to cause such overflow Misaki was amazed the whole stables didn't flood. In the end, Misaki was stunned Usagi had managed to keep his job – though when he asked how, Usagi had just smiled grimly and said he'd pulled some strings.

If there was reason Misaki was grateful to have Usagi around, it was because of his company. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Misaki had found his mornings fairly lonely – sure, there was Suzuki and the other horses, but they didn't quite make up for real, human companionship. His other coworkers were rarely, if ever, in during the mornings, and they weren't exactly... the _kindest_ of people. He was nice to them, but they were rarely nice to him, and there didn't seem any way to change that. Usagi was a breath of fresh air, and, much to Misaki's surprise, he found himself looking forward to seeing the man in the mornings, even with Usagi's utter failure at actually tending to the horses.

"With all the work you do in the mornings, I'm surprised you were the only one here until I came along," Usagi remarked one morning as Misaki entered Suzuki's stall. "It must have been frightfully boring."

Misaki rolled his eyes. "Yes, your company is the only thing that has saved me from a life of horrible boredom, thank goodness you came, my _savior_," he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster, ignoring the grains of truth in that statement. He went to fill Suzuki's water. "A few months ago, Sumi-sempai worked here for awhile." Sumi Keiichi had been a decent worker, not terribly hardworking, but not as incompetent as Usagi-san. He had been, much to Misaki's delight, particularly fascinated by Suzuki, and Misaki had taken to showing her off as a matter of pride.

"Oh? What happened to him?" Usagi asked and Misaki finished filling the bucket and Suzuki gratefully began to drink.

"Hand me the feed, will you?" Misaki asked, because Usagi was closer. He didn't like thinking about Sumi - the entire time he'd taken such an interest in Suzuki, Misaki hadn't noticed his particular interest in Suzuki being_ Prince Akihiko'_s personal horse; he'd taken Sumi's disappointment at Misaki telling him Prince Akihiko never came around to check on Suzuki to be out of concern for Suzuki, not something else, what it had actually turned out to be. "The Royal Guard found him trying to sneak in Prince Akihiko's private chambers one morning," he told Usagi as he took the bag of feed from him.

"Oh?"

"Yep. Turns out he was utterly obsessed with the prince, and had started attempting to stalk him. Last I heard, he's in the dungeons, awaiting sentencing. That was two months ago; they're probably going to drag it out as much as possible," he told him, finishing filling Suzuki's trough.

"Really?" There was something in Usagi's tone that made him look over. Usagi's expressive eyes were a mix of emotions - shock, anger, and upset, much to Misaki's confusion - and for some reason Misaki's breath caught in his throat as he looked into them. "I didn't hear anything about that."

Misaki shook off whatever had come over and handed Usagi the feed bag to put away. "Not many people did; it was all very hush-hush."

Usagi didn't say anything to that; just turned around and put back the feed bag, then grabbed the curry comb without Misaki having to ask. His face had taken on its usual mild expression again, showing no signs of the emotions from before. He handed the comb over to Misaki.

"Thanks," he said, grasping the comb and starting to groom Suzuki.

"How's your brother?" he asked, and Misaki held back the urge to roll his eyes. _Of course_ Usagi wanted to know about Takahiro. He always wanted to know about Takahiro. It was starting to get on his nerves.

"He's fine. He and Manami have been trying to figure out where to hold the reception – not that we have much money for it, but we can at least afford a small place."

Usagi grunted, and for a moment Misaki felt guilt wash over him. He might be annoyed about Usagi's obsession with Takahiro, but that didn't mean he had to rub it in his face. _Was I doing that?_ Suzuki gave a whinny and Misaki realized he was being a bit too rough with the curry comb. He apologized to Suzuki, mentally smacking himself for getting distracted.

"There was a fight out in the market the other day," Misaki said after a moment.

"Was there?"

"Yep, someone accused a fishmonger of not giving him enough change. The shopkeeper claimed otherwise. Somehow, it resulted in a fist fight; I swear, half the town was out, watching them. The guards broke it up eventually." He stopped combing Suzuki and turned around to face Usagi, handing him the comb. "I'm surprised you hadn't at least heard of it by now. Everyone was talking about yesterday and this morning."

Usagi shrugged, and walked over to put the comb away, then got out the dandy brush, handing it over. "I don't get out much."

"You're weird, Usagi," he said as he continued to groom Suzuki.

"At least I don't get into fist fights over fish."

"From what I heard, it was a very good slice of salmon." He paused for a moment. "Well, that and that the fishmonger's son had impregnated the customer's daughter, then ran off."

"I think that might be a more likely cause than the fish." Usagi sounded amused. _Good. _

"Perhaps," he said. "But have you ever had really good salmon? It's not cheap, but it's so very worth it."

"I'm afraid I haven't," Usagi said, and Misaki took that as a cue to gush over the best dinner he'd ever had, which a neighbor had made for him years ago.

Really, he thought, there were so many other things they could talk about than Takahiro.

_Not that I'm deliberately trying to avoid talking about him, or anything._

_

* * *

_

The minute Misaki walked into the stable one morning some time later, he knew there was going to be trouble.

Usagi was eying the latest edition to Suzuki's stable, an elaborate leather saddle with more decorations than could be found on the king's crown. They had replaced the old one yesterday, not long after Usagi left, though Misaki hadn't seen the point of the ridiculous new saddle - the prince never came out here anyway, it wasn't as though he _needed_ a new saddle – heck, he really didn't need a saddle at all.

The look in Usagi's eye, however, suggested that that he was very appreciate of the shiny new saddle, and, somehow, Misaki really wasn't surprised when he suggested they go riding.

"We're not allowed to," he said, making his way through the stall to take care of Suzuki. "The only ones

who take the horses out are my superiors, and that's so they don't go soft." He paused for a moment, mulling over that last sentence. "The horses, I mean, not my superiors."

"But it's not like the saddles aren't here," Usagi pointed out. "We're the only ones here right now, so we're the only ones that would know."

For some reason, a shiver ran down Misaki's spine at those words. He shook it off. "The Royal Guard would know." Suzuki gave a snort into her food for some reason; Misaki ignored her.

"As if they pay any attention to the horses?" Usagi pointed out. Misaki filled Suzuki's bucket with fresh water, then turned around.

"Look, the horses are property of the royal family. They wouldn't be happy if they heard we were taking the horses for a joy ride." Usagi opened his mouth, as if to object - most likely at how the royal family didn't seem to give half a damn as to the state of their horses, and probably wouldn't care if they got extra exercise, but Misaki ignored him. "Besides, I don't know _how_ to ride."

Usagi's jaw snapped shut. He blinked. "You don't? But you work – "

"_Stable_boy, remember? I work in the stables entirely. As I told you earlier." He combed Suzuki's coat, waiting for another protest.

"Then I'll teach you," Usagi said.

"Huh?" Misaki turned around to look at him, cocking an eyebrow. "You know how?"

"I've been riding since I was a kid," he said, and Misaki once again found himself wondering about Usagi and just who he was. Any attempts to ask him about his family resulted in a very quick change of subject, and he never talked about himself in detail – just that he loved Takahiro, worked in the stables, and, as Misaki had found out one very strange morning, had an obsession with teddy bears.

"How did you afford it?" he asked, hoping to get some information this time, but his attempts were in vain; Usagi just ignored the question, and took the new saddle down from where it was stored on the wall.

"Woah, wait, you're using that saddle – ?" But whatever he had to say about it, Usagi just continued to ignore him, and Misaki had to yell at him to stop before he put the saddle on before he'd probably groomed Suzuki.

"I don't want any dirt getting trapped in there and making her uncomfortable," he explained, and realized he sealed his fate with that.

"You should probably take Clearsky," Usagi suggested when they'd fitted Suzuki with the saddle. "He's an old horse, and the most gentle one in the stable."

Clearsky was a blue roan Quarter Horse, and the most laid-back horse in the stable – Misaki often had trouble remembering to take care of him because he made so little noise, or indeed, showed any sign of his presence at all. He could see why Usagi wanted to ride Suzuki and have him ride Clearsky – Suzuki was the only horse who didn't glare at Usagi on sight, and Clearsky wouldn't buck even if a horse-eating monster ran in front of him – but he still felt a bit put-out that Usagi would be riding Suzuki, not him.

"Of course, considering your height, maybe Redsun would be better..."

Misaki thought of the Shetland Pony three stalls over and stomped his foot in indignation. "Clearsky will work fine, thank you!" He marched over to the Quarter House's stall and began to prepare him for being ridden.

For some reason, he had the strangest feeling Usagi was watching all this with a smirk.

* * *

Horseback riding was quite nice, Misaki decided. Sure, he was going to wind up with a sore back and bottom tomorrow, and Clearsky kept stopping to eat certain patches of foliage and, at least once, moved his bowels, but Misaki was starting to regret that he hadn't had the chance to do this earlier.

"It's really beautiful out," he remarked, watching squirrels dart along the oak trees.

"It's even better at sunset," Usagi said, "or sunrise."

"I'd imagine so," Misaki said. The boots he were wearing were beginning to feel slightly more comfortable; Usagi had procured them this morning after declaring Misaki's work boots unsuitable for horseback riding. He claimed that all the stableworkers had a pair of riding boots provided for free as part of their work gear, but that was the first Misaki had ever heard of it. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he just raised his eyebrow and took the boots without question.

Though, really, it was becoming frustrating how Usagi was so much of an enigma. He didn't even know the man's real name, for goodness sake – he was even listed on the payroll as "Usagi"!

"You're doing pretty good for your first time out," Usagi remarked, which bought Misaki hurtling back to the present.

"That's because I'm amazingly talented," he replied.

Usagi snickered and Misaki glared at him. Really, it was probably Usagi's skill at teaching – and his surprising patience with him – that had caused Misaki to not end up half-dead as soon as he tried to get on the horse, but considering the man had an ego so large he could ride the prince's personal horse – replete with brand new saddle – without so much as batting an eyelash, Misaki figured it best to keep that observation to himself.

Out in the early morning sun, astride Suzuki, Usagi looked every inch the confident – _arrogant_ – individual that he so often was. For some reason, Misaki's heart sped up and there was a weird fluttering in his stomach at the sight of Usagi like that. He shook it off. It was probably because when Usagi didn't look like that, he was looking lonely and pained over Takahiro – the sight of which always made Misaki's heart twist in his chest.

"Are you okay, Misaki?" Usagi's question interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up at him with a smile.

"Of course! I was just wondering... um, what other hobbies do you have, besides horseback riding?"

It was a stupid question, really, but he felt like he say _something_, making it sound like he'd been pondering something other than Usagi's moods and the weird feelings he kept getting in his chest.

"I like writing," Usagi said, and for some reason, he looked sad again, but Misaki didn't want to stop from asking about his writing – every new piece of the puzzle that was Usagi made Misaki want to learn more, and this was no exception.

"Really? What do you write about?"

"Everything." Usagi sounded so completely solemn that Misaki had to hold back a laugh.

"That's quite a bit. Ever consider writing about something more specific?"

Apparently, Usagi didn't approve of his attempt at humor, because he gave him a slight glare. "You know what I mean."

"No, I don't 'know what you mean'. What do you write about? Horses? Teddy bears? Teddy bears in the form of horses? What?"

Usagi just rolled his eyes. "Whatever comes to mind." He paused for a moment. "Wherever I escape to, whatever I'm thinking of – that's what I write about."

Misaki had a sudden urge to smack him for the vague answer, but shrugged it off. Whatever he thought about, huh?Well, goodness knew what Usagi was thinking about sometimes, and those other times he was obsessing over – _wait a minute_. "Do you ever write about my brother?"

Misaki regretted the question as soon as it was out of his mouth - Usagi thought about Takahiro enough as it was, and the look he gave him at the inquiry wasn't exactly a pleasant one. "I'm sorry – I –"

"Yes." Usagi looked away from him and faced straight ahead, his face taking on that stoic mask that Misaki was beginning to find incredibly annoying. "Yes, I have."

He really shouldn't continue on with this line of questioning, but he couldn't stop himself – "What do you write about him?"

Suzuki stopped to eat a particularly appetizing plant, and Usagi made no move to pull on her reins. Clearsky stopped as well, apparently sensing he should. Usagi looked at Misaki, directly into his eyes. The man's amethyst-colored irises blazed with a slight heat that made Misaki's heart thump painfully loud. "Do you remember what happened the second time we met?"

Yes, Misaki remembered, even when he didn't want to – he remembered the heat and the feel of Usagi's breath on his neck, the way his body felt pinpricks of pleasure and the arousal that had flooded through him, all at that man's whim. He could feel his cheeks burning at the memory. Of course he remembered, but he didn't see what that had to do with –

"You pervert!" he shouted at him, and Suzuki stopped his grazing to look at him. The only movement

Clearsky made was to find another patch of foliage. "You write – about my brother – in that way!"

"Well, yes," Usagi said, and he looked slightly amused. "Not that he has any idea, of course – but I have pages upon pages with things I've come up with over the latest fourteen years."

_Fourteen years? _Misaki thought, because somehow it never come up how long Usagi had been pining over his brother. _Since high school?_ "But if you love him, why would you - wait! Don't answer that!" Misaki had the strangest feeling what Usagi's answer would be, and he didn't want to hear it. "Um, I mean... you could just... keep it in your head –"

"Sometimes it's too much to just keep up there," Usagi said, and Misaki wondered just how often it became too much, if he had "pages upon pages" of... _such _things... written about his brother.

Usagi got Suzuki moving again, Clearsky following without much urging, and they turned around to head back to the stables in silence, until Misaki realized he couldn't just leave it like that, so he said, "I'd like to read some of your writings sometime!"

Usagi turned his head to give him a peculiar look, and Misaki felt his face heat up again. "Not – not _those_. I mean – more _normal _ones." He paused for a moment, considering what Usagi seemed to think of as "normal". "You know, stories and things. Without my brother. You do have those, yes?"

Usagi considered this for a moment. "Yes, I do have some things that will fall under those guidelines. Are you literate, though?"

Misaki blanched. He had barely passed what schooling he had, which had stopped a year or so before he began working at the stables. "Um, a little. I mean, I can read the list of employees – it helps when there are images, though –"

Usagi just smiled, and for some reason it made Misaki's heart thump painfully again. "I'll get you some things that are easier to read, then you can work your way up to what I've written." For once, Usagi didn't sound haughty about it – about his level of skill and learning and the level of education required to read what he could produce – just matter-of-fact. "Maybe I'll write something just for you – I can't draw very well, though – maybe I can find someone who can –"

"Well, as long as you don't have the ones about my brother illustrated, that would be neat." Misaki paused for a moment. Getting that together wouldn't exactly be easy. "But don't just do so on my account!"

Usagi just continued smiling at him, making him feeling all light and airy, like he could fly. The stables approached, and they stopped the horses, Usagi helping Misaki dismount.

"We should go riding again, yes?" Usagi said as they led the horses back by the reins, and Misaki found, much to his chagrin, that he could only agree.


	3. Trot

**Apologies for the lateness of this chapter – I was busy with school and medical stuff interfered, then I went overseas for two weeks. The rest of the chapters should not take this long to update.**

**Thanks again to all reviewers and people who add to favorites and alerts. **

**A shout-out to freakylemurcat, because her very awesome portrayal of Akihiko's mother influenced mine. **

**Additional notes are at the end of the chapter.**

**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Trot

It was during one very sunny afternoon that Prince Usami Akihiko IV, heir apparent – although that was heavily debated – to the Kingdom of Masikyo, decided that he really needed to write something new.

He had been looking, for the better part of an hour, for something suitable to be illustrated to help his new friend learn to read. The writings he already had – years and notebooks worth - were either maudlin and horrifically depressing or would make Misaki never speak to him again, though the reaction he would get to the latter might just be worth it – blushing and flailing, so innocent and virginal. It seemed cruel, however, to subject Misaki to drawings of his _own_ brotherin those scandalous positions. For a moment, he'd considered what it would be like to be presented with such drawings of Haruhiko, then had a sudden urge to gauge out his eyes and a good portion of his brain. He shook it off, though, and just hoped those images never showed up in his nightmares.

No, the kinds of things he wrote about Takahiro were something he'd rather not give to Misaki, all things considered – and besides, Misaki had strictly forbidden it. The other stories, though...

They were just so very... _sad_. All of his stories screamed of being trapped and sad and lonely, like a caged bird desperate to leave, and he couldn't give Misaki those kind of stories – he didn't want to depress him. And besides, he was supposed to _encourage_ him to read, and Misaki's smile, when he did smile, was really nice, the kind of smile that made everything seem a little brighter, so he wanted to see more of those. They made his day easier. Like a refreshing glass of water in a moment of great thirst.

Which was what Misaki was, really – refreshing. Akihiko had been born into a world of falsehoods, treated as though he were the firstborn son of the king when he in fact was the second – just the first _legitimate_ son. As he'd grown up, he'd learned that even some of the ones who happily treated him as though he was an only child would rather his brother have the throne. Everyone he'd meet for years and years had some ulterior motive behind every word they said to him, every action – a gift to him was a way of buying his mother's favor (though that was useless, as she really didn't care), an act of friendship a way of putting themselves in his good graces for the years he'd be on the throne. He'd only met two people before who seemed completely honest – Kamijou Hiroki, prince of the neighboring kingdom Kusama, who had no talent for court intrigue and couldn't tell a lie if he tried, and Takahiro, who never even thought to lie. He just assumed the best of everyone, and that things would work out as they should.

Misaki, though... it wasn't that he wasn't aware that people had ulterior motives. He just told the truth anyway. At least, that was it as far as Akihiko could tell. Misaki was honest, a trait he had in him down to the bones. When it came to Akihiko, he was blunt, and straightforward, though he was also aware of how everything he said affected people – something he seemed almost tooaware of at times. In short, he was everything Akihiko had grown _not _to expect in the people that surrounded him – honest and caring – the latter as evidenced by his actions toward a sick and abandoned Suzuki when she was born.

A knock on the door broke Akihiko away from his thoughts. He looked over to see one of the many maids of the castle in a deep bow. He sighed.

"What is it?"

The maid quickly rose up, looking startled. "Your mother requests your presence, Akihiko-sama."

His mother was always among the last on the list of people he wanted to see, right next to his father and Haruhiko – there was something horribly depressing in that his immediate family members were always the last people he wanted to see – but avoiding her would only result in her being extra harsh with him, so it was always better to go.

"Tell her I'll be with her in a moment," he said, and the maid bowed again, then hurried off. She probably wanted to get to his mother before she went into one of her terrible rages about servants taking too long. As if anyone could stop his mother's temper.

The castle's hallways were, as always, too cold and quiet for his liking. It probably didn't help that every time he walked by a hush fell over the servants and they hurried to bow as deep as they could, like some insane Pavlovian reaction. Then when he walked past, the noise would slowly start up again; sometimes he'd hear them mention his name, but at the point, he was always just barely in earshot and couldn't hear anything else, but he told himself he didn't care.

His mother, as usual, was in one of the many rooms where they entertained guests. Considered "The Old Throne Room", it use to be the room at the end of the entryway where the reigning king and queen greeted guests, until one of his so-many-great grandfathers had decided to change the entryway to be closer to the peasantry in one of his "humanitarian" moments. That was were his father spent his days, though he spent most of his time doing some sort of paperwork and talking to nobles rather than greeting the common folk.

"Her Royal Majesty the Queen Usami Kimiko the First, Forty-Fifth Queen Regent of the Usami Line of the Masikyo Kingdom."

His mother just sat there as the servant rattled of Akihiko's royal title, something long and preposterous he'd never even bothered to learn. Even after the servant had finished, she stood there, clearly waiting for his mother's dismissal, but she made no movement, like some sort of statue carved of ice. For a moment, Akihiko stood there, confused, but then he remembered, and tried to roll his eyes. He bowed, as deeply as possible as he could go without hating himself, before his mother.

"You may leave, Chiyoko," his mother told the servant, and the maid hurried off, bowing as she left. "You may rise, Akihiko."

He rose and looked at her; her face, as usual, was some sort of stoic mask, betraying no amount of emotion. She varied between this and being enraged; as far as he knew, she had no other emotions – she never showed them, anyway.

"Why did you request my present, venerable mother?" He was nauseous as his own words, but it was the only way he could get her to speak to him. After he left her today, he'd have a cigarette, because a mouth of cigarette smoke was better the taste in his mouth from the words he'd just said.

"You're twenty-eight, are you not, my son?"

"Yes." He was surprised she remembered.

"And you have yet to choose a wife, have you not?"

A number of replies came to mind. _Shouldn't you know? _Was one of them. _My interests don't exactly run that way_ was another. The third, and the most appealing, was _No, and I never want one, so unless you spontaneously approve of me marrying someone of the male persuasion, fuck off_. All of those, unfortunately, would get him a lashing, despite his age, so he went with "No, I have not."

His mother nodded. "Then it shall be: in a fortnight, we shall hold a ball, and there you should choose your future wife."

"No."

"No? Would you prefer to spend some time in the cellar?"

Akihiko shivered. The cellar was were his mother kept old iron maidens, and he was fairly certain those were the least painful of the devices she kept down there. "No, but would you prefer I conceded my right to the throne to Haruhiko?"

It was the one threat he had to stop his mother's actions. If he used it too often, she'd call his bluff – really, where else did he have to go, anyway? – but if he got desperate he could use it to his advantage.

She held up her hand to her face, as if she was alarmed, but her expression didn't change. On her ring finger he could see her wedding ring, sparkling in the light. The stone it held was the same color as her eyes, the same color (much to his eternal discontent) as his own: amethyst, his father's birthstone. From what he heard, at the time of their engagement this was taken as a sign that his parents were destined to be together by the people – at least, until his father had a child with one of the lesser nobility. His parents had already been married by that point, however, so there was nothing they could do about it.

"Fine then," she said, "I see we have nothing more to talk about."

Akihiko bowed stiffly, trying not to roll his eyes, and was about to leave when he remembered something Misaki had told him.

"Queen Kimiko," he addressed her, because calling her mother once was more than enough for the day, "I have a question."

His mother said nothing, just raised an eyebrow, so he took that as a sign he could speak.

"If in the highly unlikely circumstance that someone committed a crime involving me – oh, let's say, in this example, stalking – and was put in the palace dungeons, I would be told about it, right? Hypothetically speaking, of course."

At first, his mother's face remained much the same – perhaps the right eyebrow was raised a bit more – but then she let loose a smile that would have made the sliest of snakes shiver in their skins. It made him want a cigarette.

"Of course," she said, her voice as smooth as honey and about as sweet as a bowl of pure horseradish. "In that purely hypothetical situation – of _course_ we would let you know, Akihiko. You are my son, and well into your adulthood. There would be no reasons to keep it secret, would there? Though, do tell, where did you get that idea?" At the last sentence, her eyes narrowed, though only for a moment.

"Just something I thought up," he said, being sure to keep eye contact – flinching was a sign of weakness, after all.

"You have always had an overactive imagination, Akihiko," she said, her gaze still stone cold and never lessening in intensity. His cigarette craving was starting to get out of control."Now, run along – I have much important work to do."

"As you wish," he muttered, bowed quickly, and turned on his heel. As he left, he could feel her watching him leave, her gaze on his back, a cold burn.

* * *

If there was one thing Akihiko had never expected, it was that he'd be cursing at his inability to wake up with the rise of the sun. Then again, he'd certainly never expected to _want _to get up this early, either. Yet here he was, uttering words the servants didn't know he'd learned from them as he raced down the halls of the castle.

"Quite a tongue you've got there, Akihiko."

For a moment, he stopped to look at his half-brother. Haruhiko had coveted Akihiko's right to the throne for as long as he could remember, and in time Haruhiko had built up an impressive number of supporters who believed he had a better claim. The two of them were like Romulus and Remus, except he wasn't Haruhiko's twin – good thing, too, he'd have offed himself by now if he was – and Romulus and Remus had gotten along as children and been raised by a wolf. Though the last part wasn't that fair off, really.

Then Akihiko remembered why he was awake so early and decided not to waste anymore time.

"Good morning, Haruhiko," he said as he ran off to the castle doors.

"Too busy playing to attend to family matters, _brother_?" Haruhiko called after him, but Akihiko ignored him - at least, until another voice added its opinion.

"Really, Akihiko, you should now by know your place is _here_." His father's voice, sounding far less annoyed than Haruhiko's and closer to be full of amusement, caused Akihiko to stop in his tracks directly in front of the castle doors. It was the same setence his father had told him ten years ago, after they'd found him sickly and barely alive in the wilderness ten days after he'd attempted to run away. He'd discovered that there was a law exclusive to the Kusama kingdom that granted the status of becoming a ward of the state to underage refugees, if they so requested it before the royal court of Kusama itself. Kusama was reknowned for his defense force, said to be well above any other's kingdoms, so no kingdom ever dared to question the law. When he'd been discovered and taken back home, he'd learned that the law, created to protect war orphans, only applied to those without parents (any other relative didn't matter, due to a case involving a pariturally brutal family feud). Thus, even if he'd _had_ escaped to Kusama, the law wouldn't have applied to him. Upon his return, his mother had been furious, but his father..._"You really didn't think this through, did you? Even if you had made it... well, it wasn't like you possibly could have; you're far too pampered to ever survive anywhere but here. Really, Akihiko, you should know by know by your place is _here_."_

He shook off the memories. That was a long time ago, and Misaki needed him now. "That's why I'm not leaving the castle grounds," he said, not bothering to turn around to look at is father, proceeded to open the castle doors to the bright sunshine.

He wore the stable worker's uniform under his regular clothes, which he shed in a secluded spot after doing a quick spot check. Hook off the ring on his left ring finger, a sign of his royal status. As a prince, Akihiko had to wear the ring at all times; he wasn't sure of the punishment for disobeying that one, but he'd heard that it involved things he'd rather not know about, for sake of his sanity. The ring was platinum, but with a bloodstone - his family's chosen gemstone - as opposed to a natural birthstone. The stone, green with streaks of red like blood, was a rare find in Masikyo kingdom, and all finds had to be surrendered to the royal authorities. Failure to do so resulted in life imprisonment. The ring Akihiko wore was unique to him, as it had been made upon his birth; rings weren't passed down, but kept for years and buried with the royal corpse. Any attempt at forging the ring was punishable by death. It was the only thing signaling his royal status Akihiko kept with with him when he went to the stables; one of the pockets in a trousers was sealed tightly, and difficult for pickpockets to find.

He proceeded to run to the stables, only stopping once he reached the door. He rested his hand against it, leaning over as he gasped for breath. For a moment, he regretted his smoking habit, then shook that off – regret wasn't exactly something he was used to. He opened the door to the stables as quietly as he could – and stopped moving before he'd even taken a step inside.

From within he could clearly hear the sound of someone, young and male, sobbing. Even though he'd arrived late, it still wasn't time for any of the later staff – the horribly, lazy, no-good-scum comprising the later staff – to be working, so the crying must be coming from – Misaki.

At this thought, Akihiko's throat constricted and an aching started in his chest, sharp as a new knife, like a hand twisting his heart and wringing it out. He calmed himself down the best he could and walked forward. He was conflicted as to how he should temper his approach – as silent as a ninja or as noisily as possible, to warn Misaki of his presence. In the end, he couldn't decide, so he wound up approaching him somewhere in between, with a moderate amount of noise that gave Misaki just enough time to compose himself, but not enough to clean his face, which left it red and tear-stained, though he'd stopped crying.

"Usagi, I almost didn't expect to see you," he said, obviously trying to keep his pitch normal but it broke high anyway. Akihiko ignored him, instead looking over to see just what Misaki had been crying over, and saw his mother's Arabian horses, a mare named Summer-something-or-other and her foal. The mother was nuzzling her young, like it was comforting him. For some reason, it made the pain in Akihiko's chest worsen.

"I think Whitewinter's sick. Summermist is such a good mother," Misaki said, his voice hoarse and almost a whisper.

"Not all mother's are so good," he said, bitterly.

"Well, I wouldn't know!" Misaki shouted, his voice strained.

Akihiko looked at Misaki, alarmed, and then he remembered Misaki's past, that he'd heard from Takahiro until he had the whole scenario stuck in his head, and felt a deep pang of regret over his words. He reached over to Misaki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him close, letting him rest his face on his chest, causing Misaki to start crying all over again.

"I... my mother..." Misaki mumbled, unable to get out the words.

"It's okay, I know. Takahiro told me," he said, remembering how Takahiro had been unable to see him after his father's death because he had to take over the care of his kid brother who his mother had died giving birth to. At the time, he'd felt such resentment towards Misaki, for taking away Takahiro's attentions and presence, but at this moment he couldn't grasp how he'd felt that at all.

"It's just... Suzuki tried so hard, and Whitewinter's so good, and I'll never know – " Misaki muttered, and Akihiko felt regret for the third time that day – this time for his treatment of Suzuki at her last moments, at his abandoning the new Suzuki. At the time, he'd been so angry...

"I'm sorry," Misaki said, sniffling, his head lifting as he looked at Akihiko. "I didn't mean to yell – and now I've got your shirt wet – "

"You have no need to apologize," he said, looking down at him, and he really, truly didn't care about the feel of the wetness of the shirt against the skin. "In fact, you shouldn't – it's good for you to be selfish sometimes. It's unhealthy to always be so unselfish."

"Like you'd know," Misaki mumbled, resting his head a bit higher then he had before, and his warm breath tickled the exposed skin on Akihiko's chest, right below the collarbone, and his heart began to beat faster. In a moment, however, Misaki started sobbing again.

"It's good to see you cry," Akihiko said, and Misaki paused in his crying for a moment.

"You're weird, Usagi," he choked out, then continued letting the tears fall.

All the while, Akihiko heart was beating so fast he was amazed he didn't die.

* * *

**Endnotes**

**On names: Yes, Hiroki's kingdom is named Kusama. I thought it made sense, since if Nowaki was an orphan he'd probably take the name of the kingdom he grew up in... and I was lazy...**

**The name of the Usami's kingdom was based on me playing around with the word mansion.**

**Romulus and Remus: If you don't know the legend of the founding of Rome, Romulus and Remus were twin brothers who were raised by a wolf. Romulus killed Remus and founded Rome. I'd go into more detail, but I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear it... and if you do, Google is your friend. :)**


	4. Running Walk

**Edited Feb. 2: The second scene is revamped, with more UST. No significant changes plotwise. **

**So, yes, it would be awesome if I had posted this earlier, but, unfortunately, it wasn't done earlier, because of RL things and writer's block.**

**I actually have issues with how I wrote this chapter (especially the last scene), but it's at a point where either I post it or delete it... so I went with post it. **

**The idea behind scene 2 in this chapter is something I read in a published novel, and decided to use for my own purposes; more details at the end on that one.**

**Anyway, my apologies for the lateness, and if I haven't responded to your review/pm yet, I will soon. Thanks for your patience – next chapter should be up in a better interval of time.**

**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Running Walk

It was one of those surprisingly sunny days, the kind only seen after a fortnight's worth of rain, when the sky tries to make up its recent darkness by being an almost unnatural blue, that Usagi told Misaki he was taking him someplace special.

"What the hell does that mean?" Misaki had asked, but Usagi just replied with a mysterious smile that, for some reason, sent an oddly pleasant shiver down Misaki's spine.

So, during there daily horseback riding session - how it had become daily, Misaki would never understand - Usagi led Suzuki on an unusual right turn, and Misaki could only follow.

"Here we are," Usagi said after a few minutes, and Misaki could only stare.

Usagi had led them to an alcove in the woods, one hidden from view by branches strung with leaves and a wealth of vegetation. The alcove itself wasn't that large - it could fit both horses and maybe another, but not much else - but was still a nice size. Light shined through the leaves, casting shadows on the grass.

"There's a brook not too far from here, we can tether the horses there if you want."

Misaki blinked. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. Sounds good."

Usagi proceeded to led him through lifted branches and wilting trees until they reached a stream so picturesque Misaki almost thought it wasn't real. By the water were two secure posts, one weathered with age, the other appearing brand new. Usagi tied Suzuki's reigns to the older-looking one and gestured for Misaki to do the same with his horse and the new post. He did so, and then followed Usagi back to the clearing.

"Hey, can we just leave them there?" he called after him as he led the way back. Usagi didn't stop.

"They'll be fine."

Misaki paused in his walking for a moment, frowning as he glanced back at the horses. It didn't feel right to leave them there. Usagi stopped, turned to look at him, and sighed.

"I'll make sure we have a clear view of them, okay?"

Misaki frowned, but nodded. "Okay."

They continued on to the clearing. Usagi spent a few minutes tying up tree branches of the passageway to the horses, allowing them to continue to be seen. Then he made his way to one of the bushes aligning the area, pushed up the leaves, and pulled out a rucksack.

Misaki just stared. "How did you know that was there?"

Usagi blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I put it there," he stated, his voice betraying impatience at what he probably perceived as Misaki's blockheadedness.

Misaki blushed, feeling foolish. "Oh, okay." He then paused for a moment, watching Usagi rifle through the pack. "What's in there?"

"This," Usagi said, and held out a book he had procured from the pack.

Misaki took it from him and looked it over. It wasn't a thick book - far thinner than the books he was use to seeing align his brother's shelves - but the pages themselves where thick, rich parchment. He could still smell the ink; it must have been not only brand new, but just finished recently. He looked at the title, and he was able to make out some words; his own name, "Takahashi Misaki", Suzuki's name, and the word horse, along with smaller words. "The something of Suzuki the Horse and her something something something Takahashi Misaki?"

"The story of Suzuki the horse and her most magnificent owner Takahashi Misaki," Usagi said smoothly, without the slightest hint of sarcasm or teasing, and Misaki felt himself blush.

"Most magnificent?" he mumbled to himself, but felt his heart beat faster at those words. "What is this, Usagi?"

"It's a book," he said, and Misaki rolled his eyes.

"I know that."

"It's a book I wrote," he said, pointing to a word on the bottom of the cover Misaki could only assume would read 'Usagi'. "It's for you. You said you wanted to learn how to read..."

Something in his brain clicked and he remembered the conversation they'd had weeks ago. "Oh yeah! Thanks!" he said, genuinely enthused, and opened the book. The pages were richly illustrated, with pictures labeled with various words. There was at least a sentence written on each page as well, obviously telling some sort of narrative. "Who did you get to do the illustrations?" he asked as he paged through the book, staring in awe at the present he'd been given.

"An acquittance," Usagi said, and didn't bother to elaborate. "Do you like it? I have more."

"Of course I like it!" Misaki said, looking up at Usagi and smiling. Usagi smiled back, and Misaki felt himself blush again, butterflies in his stomach once more. "I'll really try to figure the words out - thank you!"

Usagi laughed a bit, not much but just enough to make the butterfly wings rapidly increase in speed. It was a nice laugh, Misaki thought, not to deep but rich, and he wished he could hear it more often. "I'll help you, silly," Usagi said, and he had a smile of such genuine amusement that Misaki's face only heated up more. He looked away.

"I'm not silly," he mumbled, and nearly jumped when he felt Usagi's hand ruffle his hair. It caused a shiver to go down his spine, which he blamed on the cold temperature of Usagi's palm.

"We have nearly an hour before the shift's over; shall we got started?"

Misaki barely remembered to check on the horses, but he did, and upon looking over they looked perfectly content to stand there for however long he needed them to.

"Sure," he said, and they settled on the grass and began to read.

* * *

"I'd like to try something new," Usagi said one clear morning as they settled into the now-familiar clearing.

For some reason, Misaki's stomach did a blackflip at his words. He shrugged it off. "What do you mean?"

"I was looking at some reference books on learning styles," Usagi began, and Misaki shot him an odd look, but he ignored it and continued on. "There's this learning style caused KT, it involves learning by movement and physical sensations - I think you might learn best that way."

Misaki felt his heart speed up. Usagi had looked up things like that for him? The thought made his heart feel lighter. Heck, his whole body felt lighter, as though he could drift into the air. "Thank you."

Usagi looked surprised at his gratitude, but quickly regained his composure. "The books suggested some exercises."

"Like what?"

Usagi didn't say anything, just grabbed Misaki's hand and held it out, palm up. Misaki quickly snatched his hand back, his hand having felt as though he'd been shocked.

"I was going to trace a word in your hand," Usagi said, looking slightly put out. Misaki felt a pang of guilt in his gut.

"Are there any other exercises?" he asked. Usagi had genuinely gone out of his way to do something nice for him - not that he hadn't before, Misaki thought, a bubbly feeling forming in his chest. Still, he was being unappreciative; whatever Usagi suggested next he'd agree to, no matter what.

"Well, I can trace the words on your chest with my finger."

Shit. "Um, sure, okay."

Usagi raised an eyebrow at him, but went over to his pack, taking out a bedroll. "You should probably take your shirt off, so there's nothing obstructing it," he said.

Misaki quickly turned around. _My face must look like a tomato._ He thought a moment._ Well, one with a nose. And a mouth. And eyes... okay, a really deformed tomato._ As he shrugged off his shirt, he tried to focus on anything but what he was doing.

Usagi had spread the bedroll on the ground."Lie down on your back, he said, and Misaki's stomach started doing somersaults. He did as instructed and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. As to why he needed to calm himself down - well, he wasn't going to think about that.

For some reason, Usagi was leaning over him from the side, looking at his face with a closed expression.

"What?" Misaki asked, hoping that Usagi would move soon because their current position was causing all sorts of weird reactions in his body he'd rather not contemplate.

_He's not a girl_, Misaki reminded himself, because while he had no trouble telling Usagi was a guy, apparently his body couldn't, judging from the way it was starting to react.

"We should start with a word you already know, see if you recognize it," Usagi said, his voice deep, as it always was, but for some reason this time he felt as if it had gone into his chest, reverberating in his ribcage. "Close your eyes and focus on my touch."

The skin where Usagi's fingers traced felt as though it was burning, turning to fire at his touch. It wasn't unpleasant, though; no, it was just the opposite, and soon it was spreading throughout his body, like sparks shooting through him. His blood was traveling in a direction he didn't want it to go, even if the trousers he was wearing were fairly loose.

_Stop it. It's just a guy touching me._ The thought didn't help, so he imagined a face full of blemishes he'd seen on people in the market, wrinkles and zits and pox marks and warts, with pus coming out of some of them. The image helped, but it distracted him from Usagi's touch, which rendered the exercise pointless. So he tried to focus on that again, this time keeping the image of that face in the back of his mind. Yet the sensations started again, as if Usagi's touch was flint and his body steel.

Then Usagi's finger brushed one a nipple, and _oh _- Misaki held back a gasp at _that_feeling, and then he gave up, reveling in the sensations, because he couldn't stop it, didn't really want to, if anything he wanted...

A memory flashed in his head, from the end of their second encounter, and Misaki flushed again, opening his eyes and swatting Usagi's hand away. His heart was beating so fast he swore it was going to break thru his chest, all the muscle and skin and bone. He wondered if this is what it was like to get a third degree burn.

He stood up, adjusting his pants as he did so and thinking of the face he'd imagined. He took a calming breath and looked at Usagi, who stared back at him with confusion and some emotion he couldn't name - he thought it might be guilt, but that made no sense. If anything, _he_ was the one who should be feeling guilty, not Usagi. "Is there anything else to try?" he asked, having regained his compsure and wanting to put the most recent incident behind him. Usagi blinked at him, owl-like.

"Uh, yes, there's making the words out of objects..."

Misaki just nodded as Usagi went back to his bags, and swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat.

* * *

Quite a bit of time had passed since Usagi had introduced Misaki to the wondrous world of reading, and both were happy with his progress. At least Misaki figured Usagi was – his constant smiles (the kind that always made Misaki's heart beat faster, not the kind that were so fake) seemed to indicate so. They'd reached the point where Misaki could read without any pictorial aides, and Misaki had to admit, Usagi was a very good writer. His words were always compelling, echoing genuine sentiments that struck Misaki in the heart. He saved each and everyone of Usagi's book, precious treasures he kept secure and hidden in a chest under his bed, along with keepsakes from his parents and mementos of his childhood.

Because of his new found skill, he took to perusing his brother's bookshelf, hoping to improve his abilities even further – Usagi would be proud of him for seeking out reading material on his own, Misaki knew. It was this way, on one of his precious days off, that he discovered letters, written on parchment just as rich of that of the books Usagi had made for him. He wouldn't have thought to read them, really, if he hadn't caught a word he was very familiar with present on one of the letters: Suzuki.

Curiosity got the best of him, which was why (Misaki reasoned) he found himself on the floor of his bedroom, the door locked, with letters belong to his brother. He was home alone, so he didn't have to worry about his brother knocking on the door. The first one he looked at was the one with the word Suzuki on it...

_Suzuki is to have her foal in the spring. I hope you'll be able to ride along side me when the foal is old enough for it. _

Misaki blinked at the excerpt. At this point, the prince was still on good terms with the horse, riding it, even. Maybe the letter would give away why he was so avoidant of Suzuki now? His eyes scanned the letter:

_I miss you, Takahiro. Yesterday, I realized I'd forgotten the exact shade of your eyes: are they raven or coal?_

Misaki wasn't even aware there was a difference between the two. Why did the prince even care?

Unless...

He shook his head. No, that couldn't be. He picked up another letter addressed to his brother from the prince.

_Do not worry about me. Even when I have troubles, the weight upon my heart is lightened every time I receive your correspondence. Even if I was truly distressed, I would rather you be happy. If I could sacrifice one pound of my happiness to give you one ounce of such feelings, I would. If you are ever in trouble, call for me, and I will come running._

Misaki felt himself blushing and swallowed down a lump in his throat. Yes, he'd been right: these were love letters to Takahiro from the prince. Yet... they never got explicit, and love was never mentioned in them. Throughout them, the prince referred to Takahiro as a "dear friend". But how could his brother be so dense as not to know? He kept reading:

_Have I ever had any dreams of you? Well, yes, I have, but I'd rather not go into detail. I would not want to disturb you. Know always that you are my dearest friend, and I would never want to hurt you, no matter the cost to myself. I value your friendship above all else._

Well, if that wasn't obvious, Misaki didn't know what was. Though... it sounded like the prince was trying to keep his feelings secret, and his brother could be quite dense...

Misaki shook himself off and reached for another letter. This time, the letter had so many mistakes and cross-outs it was obvious it had never been sent, just kept as a rough draft. It was addressed to Manami, from his brother. Upon reading the first few lines, Misaki dropped it as if scolded by it. _That _was definitely a love letter, no question, and apparently his brother had no issue with being quite explicit. Deciding he needed something to distract from potential mental images that would leave him scarred, he picked up another letter – this time also with cross-outs, but addressed to Prince Akihiko. Reading it, it confirmed what Misaki thought: the letter, in direct opposition to the one he'd horribly stumbled upon just before it, was purely of friendship. Takahiro spoke of his beautiful girlfriend, Manami, of his work, of Misaki, of a dream he had featuring Akihiko – that must have been what he'd been referring to in his letter – that cast him with a sack full of speaking teddy bears. In the dream, he'd given one to Misaki, and then the three of them, joined by Manami, had bought eels. It was nothing like the dreams the prince had hinted at in his letter.

The worst thing about the letter, though, was how his brother occasionally addressed the prince. He had a nickname for him: "Usagi-sama". Misaki had thought the handwriting looked strangely familiar, and yet... the revelation of Usagi's identity was not as shocking as he'd have thought it would be. There was a part of him, he realized, which had always been suspicious of the relationship between Usagi and the prince, one that he'd refused to face, partially because he couldn't reconcile the image of the man he knew with one who would ignore an animal in its time of need, but also because then he'd have to confront Usagi about it, and things would have to change. He might never see him again. But now...

No, Misaki decided, nothing had changed. He could still pretend to not know who Usagi was. Besides, the was probably the only chance Usagi had to get out and do something else.

Misaki nodded his head firmly as he gathered up the letters and prepared to put them back. Yes, this was a good idea: just go on as if nothing had changed.

It wasn't like Usagi would ever reveal his identity to him, anyway, right?

* * *

**So, yeah, Scene 2. The whole "writing on someone's back to teach them to read" (as well as palm) is from _Haunted_, book 2 of the Fingerprints series by Melinda Metz. (EDIT Feb. 2: Scene changed to writing on his chest with his eyes closed instead.) I debated even including it because I worried it was too close to what happened in the source (yep, UST happened there to, though the person being taught didn't have such an extreme reaction, iirc), but I decided it's different enough. The way Usagi got the information – from a library book – was also in the book, btw. In that case, though, they were working with dyslexia...**

**Anyway, I'm still debating about that scene... heck, this whole chapter... but I decided to post it anyway. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading. **


	5. Canter

**Notes (IMPORTANT – PLEASE READ!): So... basically, as I was writing this chapter, I realized the original explanation I had planned for certain events didn't make much sense. Therefore, I've made some changes to chapter three (by which I mean I added things). Basically, this is all you need to know:**

**-Kusama kingdom (the one next to Akihiko's, remember) has a special rule that allows underage (under twenty years) orphans (defined as both parents being dead; other relatives don't matter) that escape from other countries to become wards of the state. Because Kusama kingdom has an incredible defense force, this rule has never been challenged by other countries.**

**-Akihiko has a ring that indicates his status as prince that he's supposed to wear at all times. He puts it in a pocket when he goes to the stables. **

**Other than that, the second scene in the last chapter got a rewrite. **

**Now, onwards...**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 5: Canter

The sky was so dark it might as well have been night. Akihiko, clutching a lantern in his right hand along with the folds of his cloak, was finding this to be the least of his problems. The wind was whipping by at such a speed the clasp of his cloak was pushed up against his neck, his left hand holding onto his hood to stop it from falling off his head again. His gloves were soaked by now, due to the torrent of rain falling from the sky, and the bottom of his boots were picking up mud from the sodden ground. Still, he continued on, determined to reach the stables; with weather like this, Misaki was going to need all the help he could get to deal with frightened horses. A thunderclap sounded as he reached the stable door, not the first one of the morning but still outrageously loud, and Akihiko steeled himself, preparing for rowdy horses. When he entered, he was surprised to see all the horses looked relatively calm, the noise outside more difficult to hear then he thought it would be. Still, he had a strange sense of apprehension coming over him as if something was very wrong. He took of his cloak, clutching it in one hand, the lantern in the other, and moved down the center aisle till he arrived at Suzuki's stall. There, he saw something he'd hoped he'd rather not.

Suzuki was lying on the ground, her breathing labored. Mucus ran out of her nostrils, and he could see sweat going down her muzzle. Her eyes looked glazed over.

Next to her was a kneeling Misaki, his eyes wide as he stared at her in terror.

"Misaki?" Akihiko said as he opened the stall's gate. Last week, his mother's Arabian's foal had died of a sudden case of acute pneumonia. They said it wasn't likely it would spread to the other horses, as it rarely appeared outside of foals, but...

Misaki looked at him, his eyes starting to well with tears. Akihiko felt his mouth growing dry. "Usagi! Suzuki's sick, she feels warm, I think she a fever. I'd get the horses doctor – he's a residential servant – but I can't leave Suzuki alone here..."

Even if Akihiko had lacked any positive feelings toward Suzuki, the look on Misaki's face would have been enough to make him get the doctor. "I'll get him. What house does he live in?" he said, putting his cloak on. It was more than damp, closer to soaking wet, but at that moment he didn't care.

Misaki smiled at him, though it was tempered by high anxiety. Akihiko made a mental note to rush. "The house closest to the stables – next to one of the maids, I think."

There were a few servants who lived on the castle grounds in case of emergencies. Sending for a doctor from the city took too long, and tutors living independently meant they had other charges to focus on as well. Besides that, there were a few maids and kitchen workers, in case there was a disaster and the other servants couldn't make it. All the servants used to live in the castle, but then his mother had decided she didn't want to pay them house and board, so she forced most of them to move out of the servants' quarters and into the city; the rest resided in a cluster of houses a reasonable distance from the castle, as his mother had decided she didn't like non-royalty living in the same building as her, either.

The horse doctor's horse was, as Misaki told him, the closest to the stables though it was still a good distance from them. When he knocked on the door, a man in his early thirties answered.

"What?" He had on a cloth robe, and his bloodshot eyes kept blinking.

Akihiko shielded his eyes the best he could. The doctor was a recent hire, so he'd never seen Akihiko before as far as he knew, but he didn't want to take his chores. He disguised his voice, making it sound higher than its natural cadence.

"Suzuki's sick; she's looking feverish and breathing heavy. There's nasal discharge, too."

"It might be pneumonia," the doctor said, sighing. "Give me a minute to get my things, and I'll go."

Upon reaching the stables, the doctor made his way to Suzuki, his face remaining disquietingly stoic.

"Yamaguchi-sensei!" Misaki cried, and for some reason Akihiko was annoyed at the relief present on his face upon seeing the doctor.

"Let me see her," the doctor said, kneeling next to Misaki – far closer than he needed to, as far as Akihiko was concerned. "Has she had any loss of appetite, fatigue, a depressed mood?"

"She's been sleeping often according to the records, but not when I'm here. I thought she seemed sad yesterday, but I've been feeling distressed over something stupid, so I thought it was just me."

The doctor sighed, putting his hand on the horse's muzzle. "It's most likely pneumonia, the same as Whitewinter had. I have the medicine to treat her."

"Then do it!" Misaki yelled at him, his hands bundling the fabric of his trousers in his fists.

"I can treat her with Prince Akihiko's permission," he said, and Misaki stared at him in horror.

"The prince never comes here! He doesn't even care for her! She'll die!"

"I'm sorry, Takahashi, but I can't go against orders." The devastated look on Misaki's face made Akihiko's heart cry out. He'd never seen Misaki this upset before, as if everything in the world he knew was falling apart before him.

Akihiko sighed. He knew what to do.

"I grant you my permission," he said, taking off his cloak and revealing himself to the doctor. The man's eyes widened, and before he could say anything else, Akihiko reached into his pocket and took out his ring, showing it to the doctor.

"Prince Akihiko! I'm sorry! For a moment, the doctor frowned. "Does the queen know you're here? Because if not, I'll have to report you."

"Just treat them damn horse," Akihiko said, and the doctor scrambled to begin his work. The last of his words had confirmed his fears, though: the doctor, as was his duty, was going to tell his mother of his son's time spent as a worker in the stables. And his mother...

Well, she wouldn't take that well at all.

"Usagi-san," Misaki said, his voice forlorn, and Akihiko turned away, nearly wincing; he'd never used that honorific before. "Why? Why did you –"

"Because I wanted to," he said, continuing to avoid Misaki's face, and all that followed was the sound of Suzuki's breathing.

"I'm telling the queen," the doctor said quietly, and Akihiko knew he wasn't talking about the horse.

At that moment, Akihiko could swear he heard the rain.

* * *

"Why must you always do things that embarrass me?"

Akihiko winced under his mother's gaze. His father, upon learning of what he'd done, had just looked at him, bored. _"Really, Akihiko? Playing commoner again? How self-indulgent of you. You'll never be one of them, you, so pampered and with a naïve view of the common man, so I don't see why you try. This is your place, here – it always will be."_

His mother, meanwhile, wasn't so easily abated. Her eyes conveyed fire, and her mouth was set in a frown, the kind that meant she was about to let out a round of fury.

Still, Akihiko felt reckless. He had nothing left to lose. "I don't know, mother. Why must you always want me to do the things I hate?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she actually hissed. "You ungrateful little - !" Akihiko braced himself for her verbal onslaught but it never came. Instead, her face transformed from anger to a sort of clever amusement.

She was still hideously ugly, though.

"That boy you were working with at the stables," she said, looking as though she was greatly enjoying saying every word that came off her tongue, "didn't he always know you were a prince?"

Akihiko could feel every centimeter of his body pulsing with panic. "No, Misaki didn't - !"

"That's not what the courts decided," she said, her mouth increasing into a smile that Akihiko thought might as well be made of poison. "Because, you see, he had to have seen the ring at some point, as, my dear son, you'd obviously never take it off." She paused for a moment. "He said otherwise, of course – and for perjury, along with not reporting your activities to me, as well as encouraging a horse doctor to break the rules – my, that's a lot of crimes, it isn't? For all that, he was fired, prohibited from attending all state approved celebrations, including weddings, heavily fined, and, to be served once he reaches the age of majority, – which will happen in two years – a prison sentence of five years, right in this castle's dungeons."

Akihiko stared, his throat dry. He want to crumble up and disappear. The firing wasn't surprising, nor the ban from state ceremonies – that was a common punishment, as it was considered emotionally damaging not to be able to attend the weddings of your loved ones, and a form of social shunning – and the fine was standard. But the prisons... he hadn't been down to the prisons in a long time, but the only person he'd met who spent time there – a young woman, falsely accused of horse theft – had seemed nervous and scared, and when he asked her about it, her eyes went wide and she started to shake. She'd only been there for a month, if Misaki was there for five years – he might be able to visit him, save him from that fate, but still – "But I didn't get a chance to testify –"

"Ah, my son, but due to your crime of impersonating a stable worker, you are now considered unreliable in the eyes of the court; a reckless liar who does things for the thrill of it. Of course, my testimony saved you from any punishment, but I could always change that." Her eyes seemed to take on a certain gleam, and Akihiko wasn't sure anymore what was keeping from collapsing on the floor and screaming. "The courts have no reason not to trust me. And, for example, if I claimed that the stable boy you were working with not only knew of your status, but kept from reporting it because he wanted to seduce you –"

"NO!" Akihiko's heart was racing, and his hands were starting to shake. He didn't want to let his mother get the upper hand, as if he she didn't already have it, but Misaki – he couldn't let him – tears were beginning to form at his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He knew he was going to sound absolutely pathetic, but for Misaki – "Please, mother, I'll do anything – "

"Anything?" His mother's smile widened to a point of grinning he'd never seen before, and at that moment Akihiko knew he'd lost. "Then, in the fortnight, a ball – I have a list of eligible brides, of proper breeding of course, that would _love_ a dance with you." Akihiko was seriously starting to feel sick. "I'll make it easy on you, though – you don't have to pick one of them to be your wife." For a moment, he almost felt relief, but he stopped himself from relaxing – he knew his mother had something up her sleeve. "Of course, I'll be there, talking to each and every one of these fine ladies – telling them of how to perform proper queenly duties, should the need arise –"

Of course. His mother was holding this initial ball to spot a weak-willed young woman she could prey upon, and then go in for the kill. And he'd have to go along with it all – she held the trump card in the shape of Misaki. In short, he was doomed – but then again, by the sentencing he'd gotten, and considering the way she was threatening to increase the teen's prison sentence, so was Misaki –

Unless...

If he could convince his mother to get rid of the prison sentence...

He looked directly into his mother's eyes, and felt as though he was burning. If he was going to have to go down, at least he could save someone else.

"I agree to your plans," Akihiko said, and his mother looked as though she was a cat who'd ate the canary whole and washed it down with a dozen mice. "On one condition."

His mother narrowed her eyes. "Go on."

"If I agree to this, you will release Misaki from his prison sentence."

His mother titled her head, seeming to consider this. "I could do that... this Misaki, what's his last name, again?"

"Takahashi."

His mother's eyes burned with a renewed fire. "Oh, _really_? Takahashi, you say? Is he purely a commoner?"

Akihiko gulped. If he lied, she'd find out anyway – but then again, maybe Misaki's noble heritage would help him – "Er, no, I guess not – his mother was of nobility, but she married downwards classwise – "

At the look of fierce loathing coming out of his mother's eyes, looking like a dragon ready to torch down a village, Akihiko realized he'd made a mistake. Even as his mother mumbled something about letting Misaki off if Akihiko complied to her wishes, he knew it not to be true. His mother had a grudge against Misaki's mother for some reason, and his mother never let go of her grudges. If she could, she'd torture the person, and every descendent they had, for a thousand years. If anything, his mother would probably increase the prison sentence, not shorten it, and even if she did, Misaki would never be safe again once he hit twenty –

Luckily, Takahiro wasn't established as Misaki's brother in the employment records – to avoid fellow servants accusing him of nepotism, since jobs at the castle where some of the most sought after, he'd advised Takahiro to just let Misaki register himself as an independent orphan –

An _orphan_ –

That was it! Misaki had no living parents, which, while tragic, meant he could become a ward of the state in the Kusama kingdom. All the teen had to do was escape there – heck, he could even carry his parents' death certificates just in case – and declare himself an orphan before the royal court. Then, when he was twenty, and no longer officially a ward (though still protected, really), he could even apply for a temporary residency for Takahiro and Manami, if he wished – getting that required the recommendation of a citizen, but it was also the first step to complete citizenship, since Kusama's main requirement was to have lived there for a period of time...

Akihiko brought himself back to the real world. A spark of hope had gone off in his heart – even if he couldn't save himself, he could save Misaki –

His mother, now far calmer, watched him curiously, like an entomologist observing an ant farm, just with far less compassion. He needed to see Misaki, to tell him what to do, and that would require escaping the castle – which he wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of doing if he angered his mother –

"I accept your terms, then," he told her.

"I'm so happy you agree," she said, and gave an unsettling grin.

At that moment, all he could feel was the sense of a prison door swinging shut in front of him, and he could do nothing to stop it from locking.

"Of course."

* * *

While he could no longer go the stables to see Misaki, Akihiko knew he wasn't doomed from ever seeing him again. As much as he was a prisoner in his own home – had he ever not been? – he knew the secret passageways and trapdoors that were throughout the castle.

They were, of course, mostly in the form of halls so servants could be seen and not heard, though, thankfully, it was something his parents had never cared for. They didn't need the servants to hide for them to be invisible to them, after all.

There was one long passageway that led from his room to the servant's quarters, and from there it was easy to find a passage to the kitchens. The passageway had been clear when he was a kid, but after a while his father had placed a gift from some important person over it. The gift happened to be a large display cabinet, which he filled with delicate glass he got from the gift giver's wife, which meant Akihiko hadn't been able to visit a working Takahiro for years. Recently, though, his father had moved it, replacing it with an easily movable tapestry.

Akihiko had placed his ring in his pocket again; he hoped the cloak he wore covered up his silver hair and identifying features. He kept his head down; luckily, he knew the way to the kitchens well, as it was one of his favorite escapes in his youth – he'd often gone there to sneak food and hide away in the unused servant's quarters, reading. When the passage was unblocked recently, he'd used it to visit Takahiro as well.

It came to him then that he'd eschewed whatever visits he could manage to the kitchens and time alone with Takahiro with the time he spent with Misaki, and his stomach did a strange flip at the thought. He wasn't about to examine that now, though; he needed to keep his focus on the mission.

The kitchen, as always, was hot and noisy, but less so than usual; it was break time, and many of the kitchen workers had been given the week off so as to save their talents for the upcoming ball – not to mention to build up hype among the peasantry. As Takahiro had taken time off for two weeks from now, the week of his wedding, he was, luckily, on duty.

It struck him that as Takahiro would be celebrating devoting his life to his beloved, Akihiko would be starting on the long road to a loveless marriage. Somehow, it didn't seem fair.

But, Misaki...

He sighed. He really didn't have a choice.

Stepping forward into the kitchen, he was relieved to see Takahiro completely alone. It would be the perfect time to talk to him. He crept forward, as silently as he could, and then whispered his greeting. "Hello, old friend."

Takahiro nearly jumped twenty feet in the air; Akihiko supposed it was lucky he hadn't screamed. He hadn't though that part through, really.

Recognition dawned on Takahiro's face as soon as he got a good look at him. "Hi, Usagi-sama!"

"Not so loud," Akihiko whispered, darting his eyes to see if anyone had heard him. No one was looking anywhere near them, though, so he figured it was safe.

"Oh," said Takahiro, dropping his voice to a whisper, "are we supposed to keep this meeting secret?"

For a moment, Akihiko wanted to smack his own forehead, but he rolled his eyes instead. Takahiro could be a bit dense sometimes. "Yes," he said, still whispering.

"Okay." Takahiro paused for a moment, then gave a small smile. In the past, that action alone would have caused Akihiko's heart to accelerate at a rapid pace, but for some reason, it didn't cause the slightest bit of increased momentum this time. "Is this due to that whole you posing as a stable worker thing?"

Akihiko sighed. News in the castle always traveled fast. Well, when it wasn't behind closed doors, anyway. "Yes."

Takahiro looked at him oddly. "You actually did that? Why?"

Akihiko opened his mouth but no words came out. To be honest, he wasn't sure why'd he done it, but he thought the reason might have something to do with Misaki. "I wanted to try being a commoner," he said, which probably had some level of truth in it, but more importantly fit with what Takahiro knew of him.

He accepted this explanation. "Ah, okay." He paused. "It's too bad you couldn't visit last night, Usagi-sama - you see, Misaki got in trouble - " Akihiko took a deep breath, here it comes - "all over breaking some stupid rule. Y'see, this horse was sick, and the doctor didn't have permission to treat it, so he wouldn't, so Misaki grabbed the doctor's bag in an attempt to save the horse's life." Akihiko stared. Misaki had lied to his brother? Why? "So, he lost his job and know he can't go to state run ceremonies for a year, which includes my wedding. Anyway, to make up for we had a celebratory dinner, inviting the friends of Manami and I and even Misaki –" Misaki has friends? For some reason, he was a bit... disturbed at this. Probably because making Misaki leave for his own good would separate him from friends he'd never said he had. _He never told me about them, though_, Akihiko thought, and for some reason that made him want to pout. "We had a great time, even if it was dampened by Misaki not being able to come to the wedding..." Takahiro's smile faltered for a minute, but then it remained steady; his eyes lit up, like a fire that had just been stoked. "Though, y'know, if you can go out any of the nights before the wedding – well, preferably not the night before the wedding, exactly, but one of the nights before that – anyway, if you could, and visited us, the four of us could have a celebratory dinner."

"Four?" There'd be Misaki and him and Takahiro, then -

"Misaki would join us, I'm sure he'd be ecstatic to met you - " Oh, right, he'd forgotten to include Takahiro's bride. "Unless, of course, you wouldn't want him to – " His stomach did that flip again.

"No, no, of course he could join us," Akihiko said. If he was lucky, he'd get some alone time with Misaki, so he could explain to him why he needed to leave Masikyo.

"Great," Takahiro said with a smile, then frowned for a moment. He turned his gaze to the hourglass on the table next to him. "Um, Usagi-sama, I have less than a minute left for break, could you –"

"Of course," he said, and turned to leave. He paused, then looked back at Takahiro for a moment. "I'll try to make it to your place soon, if I can."

"I hope to see you there!" Takahiro said, then turned around to continue his work.

Akihiko made sure the hood of his cloak was firmly over his head as he made his way back to the servants' passageway. Even with his knowledge of the secrets of the castle, leaving for an extended period of time was going to be difficult.

He'd have to form a plan.

* * *

Akihiko had not seen the interior of the castle dungeons as a little boy, when his mother had led him there to show what would happen if he misbehaved, though he had managed to avoid being subjected to the higher levels of his mother's punishments. The holding cells were not Spartan, but instead sparse: prisoners had perhaps a tattered blanket, if they were lucky. Bodily functions were performed in a bucket which was emptied once a week, if the guards remembered. In short, it was living conditions that strayed far from humane, past adequate, and stopped somewhere between humiliating and torturous.

The keys to these cells, Akihiko had discovered, were easy to obtain - especially if the lone guard was passed-out from a herbalist's sleeping draught he had thought was some exotic drink. Guards, as it turned out, were easily beguiled by strange accents and voices that promised them pleasures beyond their wildest dreams. Well, one of them was, anyway. Akihiko was grateful for the speech levels he'd received as a child, though his parents never did find out his teacher was actually a trained actor who'd tricked them during a royal interview. That's what they got for refusing to rebuild the free and public theater after it had burned down.

The prisoners moaned as he walked by, begging for food, water, clothes, soap, anything; Akihiko had forced himself to look away the minute he'd caught a glimpse of one of the prisoner's physical thought of Misaki being imprisoned here made him stop for a moment, taking calming breaths as he resisted the urge to ram his fist into a wall.

_Even Haruhiko wouldn't approve of the conditions here, _he thought as he tried to pretend he wasn't related to his mother. Clearly there had been some kind of mix up.

The cell he was looking for was the last one on the block, and he was relieved to see that the prisoner not only had the same hair color as him, but also did not looking like he'd been horrendously mistreated. In fact, he looked quite hale, and not just compared to the others in the cells. Strange.

"Sumi Keiichi," Akihiko said, not bothering to look up and reveal his face.

"What do you want?" he asked, annoyed.

Akihiko looked him directly in the eyes, and the prisoner gasped. Akihiko thought he might have seen him at one of his mother's balls, the son of some noble or other; he wondered just how Sumi had gotten a job prescribed for commoners if he was of noble lineage, but he shrugged it off - he'd managed to do so, after all.

"I need a favor," he said.

"Anything for you, my lord," Sumi said, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent horribly unpleasant shivers down Akihiko's spine.

He took a deep breath. "Within an hour, I will tell the servants I have a horrible headache and thus I am retiring early. If the servants look into my room afterwords, they will find in my bed a seemingly sleeping man with gray hair and the covers pulled up past his nose. I, meanwhile, will be outside of the castle, going someplace secret in the dead of night. I will return at either very late night or early morning, and you will return back to your cell. Do you understand?"

Sumi just looked ticked off and disappointed. He snorted. "What will I get out of this?"

"I will testify that I not only know you, but in fact gave you permission to visit my personal living quarters, and your arrest was the result of a major misunderstanding."

Sumi looked thoughtful, then grinned as slyly as Akihiko's mother. "No," he said.

"No?" Akihiko was taken aback. He thought for sure Sumi would accept an offer of freedom.

"It's not enough," Sumi said, still smiling in that disturbing manner, "I want a kiss as well." He paused. "From you." As if he needed to clarify.

Akihiko felt sick at the thought, but reminded himself he was doing this for Misaki. "Just a kiss?"

Sumi's eyes gained a kind of luminescent glow to them. "Yes." Akihiko could practically hear the silent for now at the end of that sentence.

He paused for a moment. He wasn't stupid; he knew exactly what Sumi really wanted, and it wasn't just a kiss. As repulsive as the man was, Akihiko could risk it as he had, in a moment of insight, removed even the slightest potential blackmail material from his room before he came down here. Even if Sumi managed to search the room, he wouldn't find anything to use for leverage against him. And if his mother had his way - which she probably would - he'd be engaged before Sumi's trial even started. His heart plunged at the thought; he thought of Misaki's face to remind him of his purpose, and his spirits were instantly lifted. "Fine." Then he mumbled under his breath, still defiant, "but it's not as if I'm truly willing."

"All the better," Sumi said, and Akihiko hoped the prisoner had misheard what he said. Sumi's grin widened before he leaned against the bars and puckered his lips. Akihiko steeled his resolve and meet his lips with his own, trying to think of anything other than what he was doing. Sumi forced his slimy tongue into Akihiko's mouth, and he had to stop himself from gagging. He pulled away, feeling spectacularly unclean and wanting to vomit. As it was, he spit on the floor; he swear he saw Sumi's already dilated pupils widening at that action.

Akihiko shuddered. He really should have expected Sumi's countenance to be as rancid as three month old meat, the guy was his stalker after all, but, still... _Misaki_. He had to think of Misaki, who was a thousand times better than this creep would ever be, and deserved a life that didn't involve having to suffer time down here, especially when he'd done nothing wrong. Akihiko steeled himself and went to unlock Sumi's cell; the jerk's irises were more visible now, at least. "Let's get out of here, my prince," Sumi said in a voice as slick as oil that was probably meant to be seductive, but in fact was anything but. Akihiko forced himself to not saying anything about Sumi's possessive word choice. "I never knew you could be so shrewd and manipulative. It's such a turn-on, Akihiko-sama."

Akihiko paused at that comment, suppressing a shudder before he turned over the first sentence in his mind. Those traits were something he associated with his mother, a person he never wanted to emulate. Yet... he was being...

He shook his head. It didn't matter; he needed to save Misaki. He'd do much worse to stop him from ever being down here, if he had to.

Without saying a word, he handed Sumi the extra cloak he'd been keeping in a satchel over his shoulder. As Sumi put on the cloak, Akihiko examined the guy, trying to figure out how he'd managed to stay so healthy.

"Like what you see?" Sumi said, his eyes flashing, and Akihiko had to suppress a shudder.

"I was just wondering - "

"What I'm like in bed?"

He had never known it was possible to be this nauseous without having to vomit. "No, how you managed to say so healthy down here."

Sumi leered at him. "Ever seduce a prison guard?"

Akihiko decided he didn't even want to know. "Let's go," he said, letting Sumi follow behind him. As he led his stalker out of the dungeons, Akihiko fingered his keys, hoping he'd given the lone guard enough sleeping draught that he could sneak in the essentials the prisoners lacked from when he escorted Sumi back.

He winced at the thought of having to walk with Sumi again after this. The things he did for his Misaki...

* * *

Akihiko walked briskly through the cool night air. His hood was over his head, and he hoped it provided sufficient cover; his refusal to have a portrait made of him had never been so helpful before. The cloak he wore was slightly tattered, with patches sewn in; he'd wrecked it on purpose, to blend in better, though it probably only made him more inconspicuous somehow.

The street Misaki and Takahiro lived on was highly residential, in that you could live there without smelling the stink of fish every time you opened your window. Akihiko took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and waited.

The door creaked open to reveal a smiling Takahiro, illuminated by the light behind him. "Come in, Usagi-sama. I'm so glad you could make it."

"Me too," he said as he walked inside, Takahiro stepping aside to let him through.

The Takahashi was the very definition of cozy. The furniture showed shines of wear, with wood that needed to be re-lacquered and cushions that, while they looked far more comfortable than anything in the castle Akihiko was so used to, were obviously not original to the furniture. The kitchen was meager, but adequate; the lighting consisted of several lanterns at strategic places, casting the whole house in a warm glow. Decorations mostly consisted of small plants, the kind his mother would have thrown a fit about before even letting them into a castle, and the lone dining table was small and cramped; it barely had enough space for four people to eat without knocking their elbows into each other at every other moment.

It was everything Akihiko had wanted as a child.

"Can I take your cloak, Usagi-sama?" Akihiko turned to look at Takahiro, who had his hands out, expectant. He hand over the cloak and the lantern, and then opened the satchel as his side, removing a bottle of very good sake.

"Here," he said once Takahiro had hung up the cloak and placed the lantern on a small table by the door, "this is for you. An engagement gift."

"Usagi-sama, you shouldn't have!" Takahiro grinned at him, the kind which he would have killed for when he was younger. "But do you even like sake?"

He didn't. "Ah, but isn't it your favorite, Takahiro? I do believe an engagement present is meant to please the one getting engaged, not the giver."

Takahiro seemed to take that as a good enough explanation. Akihiko tried not to smile to himself; a drunk Takahiro would be distracted enough for him to be able to talk to Misaki without explanation. "Alright, well, I have some people for you to met."

Akihiko felt his heart pound at that statement, excitement coursing through his veins like a current. "Oh?"

"Yes, although one of them is taking his time..." Akihiko's heart fell a bit at that, but he tried not to show it on his face. Takahiro led the two of them to a sofa where a young woman sat. He had seen he when he came in but hadn't really paid her much attention at the time. She was petite, with green eyes and long brown hair and an easy smile. She stood up upon seeing the two of them approach. "This is my future bride, Kajiwara Manami." She curtsied and greeted him as was expected of their social positions; Usagi murmured a basic greeting. She seemed nice enough, he supposed, but he wasn't really interested in her. "Now, my brother - "

"I'm here, Niichan." Akihiko turned his head toward the hallway, his heart beating painfully loud. He wondered if they could hear it. Misaki was walking into the living area; he appeared to be wearing his best clothes. "Now who is the guest you want me to - " He saw Akihiko and stopped abruptly, both in speech and in movement.

Takahiro gestured to his brother. "This is -"

"We've met," Akihiko said smoothly, his eyes staying on Misaki the entire time. The boy was glaring at him, face flushed.

"Oh?" Takahiro looked confused for a moment. Then he seemed to have had a sudden insight. "Ah! The stables! You must have met them there when... you..."

"Were trying out being a common person," Misaki said, his voice conveying a bit of venom Akihiko hadn't heard before. Damn. For some reason, he thought of his father accusing him of being a pampered, spoiled child playing commoner, but he forced that out of his mind, and tried to focus on what Misaki said instead. Was it due to the punishment? What had Takahiro been telling him?

Takahiro just nodded. "Yes... so, should we begin dinner? I'm afraid our food is not quite at the quality level you expect, Usagi-sama –"

"It's fine," Akihiko said, shortly, and followed the others to the dining room table. The food wasn't much - peasant food, so more thick grains than roasted duck - but was perfectly adequate for four people. Misaki was still glowering, not looking at him, much to Akihiko's disappointment. How was he supposed to tell the boy to escape if he wasn't even going to look at him? He took the seat next to Misaki, who shot him a look, but said nothing else.

"So, Usagi-sama," Takahiro said as they began to pass around the food, "how has royal life been treating you lately?"

_Horrible_. "Same old, same old. Not at all very interesting," Akihiko said, then smiled radiantly at Takahiro. "I'm sure your life is far more interesting then mine."

For some reason, Misaki snorted, but he ignored him. He'd talk to him later. As it was, he was subtly pushing the sake he'd bought with him towards Takahiro; the man was a terrible lightweight.

Takahiro grinned at him as he poured himself a full glass, than handed it over to Manami mumbling something to her about how his brother shouldn't drink. Misaki glared at his brother, still silent, but Akhiko really didn't care; his plan seemed to be working well.

"Oh, not much," Takahiro said, answering his question from before, than went into a long rendition of everything that had been going on for the past few months, which was mostly everything involved in planning the wedding. While Akihiko's goal in coming here was to speak to Misaki, Takahiro was still his dear friend, so he didn't even have to pretend to be interested; he actually was, though Takahiro's description of the lengthy, agonizing decision of choosing between flower patterned and abstract patterned lace doilies was a bit much.

A few hours or so after they'd began dinner, Takahiro's eyes were beginning to glaze over as he swayed slightly in his seat. Manami was giggling at random intervals, which Akihiko took as a good sign; she'd been acting sober far longer than Takahiro had, but now she seemed tipsy enough to not question Akihiko leaving the table with Misaki.

Still, he had to find a way to end the conversation. Takahiro was going into detail about just how they'd decided to chose the wedding party, and he didn't seem to being letting up any time soon. Even worse, Misaki hadn't bothered to talk the entire time they were at the table; as it was, the teen was just staring at his plate, picking at the remains of his food.

"Y'know, Akihiko," Takahiro said, and Akihiko stopped staring at Misaki for a moment to look at him, "it's too bad you're so rich and royal and stuff. I was going to ask you to be my best man, but then I figured I couldn't, 'cause you're a prince and all. It's really too bad, because I think you'd like Manami's maid of honor –"

"Niichan, shut up!" Akihiko turned his head; Misaki was standing up, leaning over the table, his face so red Akihiko started wondering if he'd gotten some of the sake despite his brother's orders, even though he'd seen every drop of it go into Takahiro's and Manami's glasses.

"Misaki?" Takahiro seemed surprised; from what he'd said in his letters, Akihiko guessed he'd probably never even seen Misaki shout before.

"It's just –" he faltered. "I just –" He darted his eyes. "Uh, I'll just be outside! I think the chickens need to be fed!" Misaki ran off and out a side door, slamming it behind him.

"But we don't have chickens..." Takahiro muttered.

"He must have gotten confused," Akihiko said, getting up from the table. "I'll go find him."

"Okay, Usagi-sama," Takahiro said, looking relieved. Akihiko felt a slight pang; Takahiro clearly trusted him, and here he was, about to – about to what? Why wouldn't Takahiro want him to save Misaki? His guilt must be from getting him drunk...

Akihiko took his cloak from the front of the house, along with a lantern. When he walked back, Manami was leaning on Takahiro's shoulder, whispering things in his ear. Takahiro's face had gone red, and Akihiko knew it wasn't just from the alcohol. He left the two lovers to themselves, not even mumbling a goodbye as he left.

The yard behind the Takahashis' home was a shared lot, a common area between about six houses. It wasn't much, and wasn't very large, but it was more than most people had. Really, for a commoner, Misaki and his brother were probably on the upper echelons of –

"Misaki?" Akihiko said as he saw a figure standing by a house that looked a bit run down; he wondered if it had been abandoned. The figure seemed a little shorter than Misaki, but also hunched over, its hands on its face. As Akihiko got closer, the lamp he'd carried shined on the teenager – and at that moment, Akihiko heard it – a litany of familiar sobs.

"Misaki?" he said, closing in on him. "Are you crying?"

It seemed a stupid question, because he obviously was, but Misaki looked up, startled, and stared directly in Akihiko's eyes. Tears were running down his face, and he moved his arm to wipe off his nose. "No," he said, and Akihiko resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Is this about your sentencing? If that's it, I –"

"No, it's not that," Misaki interrupted, shaking his head. "I know it's not really your fault – I mean, I was angry at you at first, but I couldn't – look, it's the jurors' fault. It didn't matter what I said, they kept finding it as evidence I did something wrong..."

Akihiko stared at him, his heart feeling like it was floating upon learning Misaki didn't blame him – because, really, the teen had all right to. "Then what is it?"

Misaki released another sob, and swallowed. "It's just... Niichan is an idiot." Akihiko stared at him, trying to remember the last time Misaki had said something negative about his brother; he came up blank. "He just... wanted you to be his best man... wanted to pair you off with someone else... while you..."

Akihiko titled his head to the side. He hadn't really been thinking about the implications of Takahiro's words, which was strange - they should have stung far worse than they did - but he'd been so focused on saving Misaki... "I?"

"You.. wrote him such letters... how could he not realize..."

"Letters?" Akihiko repeated, and Misaki looked up at him, staring at him incredulously.

"Those letters! The love letters!" He paused for a moment. "Well, they weren't actually love letters, not really, but they might as well have been..."

For a moment, Akihiko wondered how Misaki had read his and Takahiro's correspondence, but he pushed that thought aside. Misaki was right, really; those letters had been love letters, even as he tried to hide his true emotions from Takahiro, even though the latter had never taken them as such. Akihiko had figured the letters must have been less obvious than he thought since Takahiro never addressed the undertones, but Misaki...

Suddenly, it was as if lightning had just flashed in a world of darkness. Akihiko realized just why he'd followed Misaki out here, why he'd even come to Takahiro's house today at all. It made sense, really; the dreams he'd had since he met Takahiro had been less frequent lately, instead replaced with ones that remained dimly in his mind when he awoke, and he hadn't had any desire to write any explicit novels with Takahiro in them, though he'd blamed that on focusing on creating a book for Misaki and teaching him to read. He'd always assumed his love for Takahiro was doomed, ever since the beginning; even if Takahiro could love him, he'd always think of him as the prince, as someone above him and beyond his reach. That's why, even as Takahiro was able to call him by a nickname - after years, at Akihiko's instance - he kept using the proper honorific. But Misaki...

He smiled to himself. Love was blind, really, but he wasn't about to complain about Cupid.

In fact, he rather liked him right now.

"Misaki," he said, and reached forward, grabbing the younger's chin in his hand and lifting it upwards. Misaki tears stopped for a moment, as he looked at him, startled, and Akihiko smirked to himself before pressing his lips against Misaki's.

For a moment, Misaki didn't respond, but then he wrapped his arms around Akihiko's neck and started kissing him back, with even more force than Akihiko had started with, and all Akihiko could think was that this must be what true happiness is, light and pure and without caveats. It was greater than anything he'd ever experienced, at least until he pressed his tongue against Misaki's lips and the teen let him in, and all he could think about at that moment was how he never wanted this to end, never wanted to let Misaki go, and how paradise must consist of Misaki feeling the same.

It was a collision of tongues of teeth, all wild and desperate, lacking finesse but more than making up for it in passion, and Misaki trembled in his arms, pulling his head back slightly and letting out a noise that sounded like a half-swallowed moan.

It was at that moment, even as their lips met again, that Akihiko remembered why he was here, and he pushed Misaki away, his heart shattering all the while. The teen's face was flushed and he was gasping for breath, pupils dilated so much there was only a small strip of green surrounding each of them, and, fucking hell, not following what every fiber in his body wanted to do had to be the hardest thing he'd done in his life.

"Misaki," his said as the teen calmed down, and Akihiko wished he didn't have to say it, didn't have to make the sacrifice. But for it was for Misaki's own good...

"What?" Misaki said, confusion starting to form on his gorgeous face, and Akihiko wondered how he'd never realized just how beautiful it was before; if only he had...

Akihiko swallowed back the lump forming in his throat.

"Misaki," he said, and his heart pounded in his ears, his own voice sounding painfully loud, "you need to leave Masikyo."

At that moment, Akihiko knew none of the punishments his mother could design for him could be worse than this.


	6. Scratched?

**Yep, I'm still around, just have been dealing with an overwhelming level of stress. They gave me a shiny new pill, though, so I'm back again. I really want to get the next chapter of this written fairly quickly, considering how this one ends, but I can't make any promises. Anyway, thank you for your patience.**

**Feedback of all types always welcome, in particular I'm worried about the sequence of narrative in the first half, and ICness, but I feel it's good enough to post. **

**I'll be responding to reviews and whatnot later... and I really need to write reviews, too... anyway, please enjoy, and I thank you all for your continued patience with me.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Scratched?

The weather outside was bright and sunny, and Misaki felt an inexplicable need to curse at it.

He hadn't seen Usagi in well over a week now, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. Sure, Misaki wasn't allowed near the palace anymore, but that didn't mean Usagi couldn't visit - he had done so before, hadn't he? Then again, at their last meeting, Usagi had made it perfectly clear he had no intention of ever seeing him again.

As much as he Misaki tried to distract himself from it, the memories of their last meeting kept playing themselves over and over in his brain, like if he thought about it enough something else he'd missed would come to light, and the events that had unfolded would start making sense.

_Usagi had pulled away from Misaki and was staring into his eyes. Misaki leaned forward for another kiss; the last one had been utterly brilliant, feeling like it had taken over every thought in his mind and pushed it away somewhere, and all he could do was _feel_; he'd felt free and light, like he was floating on a cloud, except he was pretty sure clouds could not provide him with the same zenith of happiness as Usagi did. _

_Usagi, his lips redder from the blood that had rushed them to them, was having none of Misaki's attempts to kiss him. He looked absolutely devastated, which was the exact opposite of how Misaki felt. He pushed Misaki away._

_"You have to leave," he said, and at that moment Misaki felt his heart shatter, and knew he'd never be able to pick up the pieces alone. _

_"What? Why?" he asked, trying to ignore the way tears were welling up in his eyes again, threatening to seep out and run down his cheeks. He wanted to vomit or scream or die; he wasn't quite sure which. _

_Usagi's eyes - those lovely eyes, the most perfect shade of purple Misaki had ever seen - darted away from Misaki's view, distinctly looking away from him. Usagi's body screamed tension, his shoulders hunched and lines of muscle looking taut. "My mother..." he sighed then, and closed his eyes completely. He swallowed. "You're in danger. If you stay..." He still wasn't looking at him. "If you stay, we'll both be held captive for all our lives."_

_"What?" What the hell did Usagi mean by that?_

_Usagi said nothing, just stood there awkwardly, his hair shading his eyes from view. His voice sounded cold and distant, as though it was coming from miles away. "Please, just... go to Kusama. If you declare yourself a ward of the state there, you'll never have to serve time in prison. Takahiro can join you later, if you request it." _

_Well, sure, Misaki didn't want to go to prison, but he had well over a year – and that still didn't explain why Usagi was pushing him away. "And you?" he asked._

_There was a pause then, one that seemed to stretch into forever, but then Usagi broke it, his voice so quiet Misaki almost missed it._

"_I stay here."_

Misaki had had nothing to say to that. Takahiro had called them in only moments after, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol. Usagi had left soon after, not even bothering to wish Misaki one last goodbye.

Misaki had considered leaving, had gone as far as to pack his bags the morning after Usagi had told him to, but then he'd come to the conclusion that Usagi was an idiot. After all, Misaki was not even nineteen, meaning he had over a year to leave and avoid prison. He was grateful Usagi had come up with the idea – he'd resigned himself to his fate of imprisonment as soon as he'd heard it – but that didn't mean he had to go _now. _He could wait; he might be banned from his brother's wedding, but he still wanted to support them. As it was, Misaki didn't have a clue as to why Usagi would insist he leave _now, _except that he wasn't thinking things through.

The worst part, of course, was the dreams that had started since Usagi kissed him. Oh, he'd had these types of dreams before, but never with such... intensity, and remembered detail. He'd already been doing the laundry himself, since Takahiro and Manami were so busy with the wedding preparations, and he'd never been more grateful for having to do that chore.

It was disturbing, really, how far his mind could _go _without ever having experienced it (well, some things, anyway). He didn't like to think about it, less he die of embarrassment, but he'd already decided the imaginings of his subconscious were All Usagi's Fault, and he couldn't even yell at the bastard about it, because he hadn't seem him in _days_.

He didn't miss him though. Really. He wanted to see him, but really just to yell at him – his perverted ways had perverted _him_! But Usagi never came around, and so Misaki fumed silently, ignoring the growing lump of disappointment that had formed in his stomach, and tried not to think of the sight of amethyst colored eyes and silver hair.

His brother hadn't helped, especially when he'd told him Usagi was having a royal ball.

It made Misaki sick just to think of it. It wasn't his brother's fault – how was he supposed to know the news would upset him? No, it was all Usagi's fault, one hundred percent. The bastard was holding a freakin' royal _ball_, like the monarch-to-be he was. Invitations had gone out to eligible young princesses and ladies of acceptable status – like that shit even mattered more than love.

If Usagi loved him, then he should...

No, no, he wasn't going to think like that. It was ridiculous to even think that Usagi loved him – why would he, after all? Misaki was just a stable boy. And even if Usagi had loved Takahiro... well, really, he still loved him, didn't he? He'd never said otherwise. So Usagi was just a bastard who randomly kissed people, or something. It made Misaki burn with rage; he'd already startled his brother and future sister-in-law with the angry screaming and tearing out of his hair he'd gone into at the dinner table once just thinking about it.

He wasn't really hurt about it, though. Or jealous at the thought of Usagi kissing others. Or anything like that. No, he was just angry. Really.

And now... he'd found the letter.

Misaki knew he should really stop snooping through his brother's things, but he wasn't, he was just... cleaning his brother's desk drawers. And so what if the moment he found a stash of letters Usagi had written he grabbed those and ran, locking the door of his room securely behind him? He was just curious, that's all.

He turned away from the window and bright sun that was annoying the hell out of him, and took a deep breath before beginning the task that the thought of was causing his stomachs to do flip-flops. His hands were shaking as he gently opened the parchment envelope, the wax seal long since broken. He slipped out the letter and unfolded it, the creases well-worn.

He started to read, but then he stopped, because he didn't want to get his tears on the letter.

Through numerous starts and stops and wiping of tears, he managed to get through the whole thing. He was shaking now, feeling as though he might vomit, his head and heart throbbing with pain. He lay down on the floor, watching the ceiling spinning mildly, as the words he'd just read echoed through his head.

The first lines of the letter should have warned him to stay away. It was written right after the current Suzuki's mother had died, and everything about the letter – the penmanship, the evident stops and starts, the language – indicated Usagi's grief. And yet...

_I know you say I should visit her, but I don't know if I can. How could I love such an animal that, however indirectly, caused her mother's death?_

Misaki closed his eyes and tried to slow down his breathing. It was painful enough that Usagi was speaking so harshly about the Suzuki Misaki himself knew and loved, but -

_It wasn't truly her fault, I know that logically, but my heart doesn't follow logic. It wasn't her choice, but the start of her life meant the end of her mother's, and my heart, however __unreasonably and harshly__, blames her for that._

Was these his true emotions, the one towards Suzuki he never spoke? Did he feel this way about... about...

_Tell me, Takahiro, do you know these ridiculous, cruel emotions of which I write? Have you felt this way at all, perhaps in the past, perhaps as a child?_

Did people feel that way towards _him_?

Misaki huddled into a ball on his floor, rocking slowly back and forth, trying to calm his harsh breathing that was causing the burning in the lungs. He wasn't crying, but he was damn close.

Misaki's birth had caused the death of his mother, and while he'd been told, repeatedly, that it wasn't his fault, that his mother would have rather died than birthed a stillborn if she'd had the choice, it still hadn't stopped the sharp feelings of guilt that came every time he heard stories about how fantastic a woman his mother was and saw the sadness suddenly present in the eyes of those who'd loved her, or was told how much his mother would have loved and adored him, if only she'd have gotten the chance. It had gotten better as he'd gotten older – even better still when he'd met Usagi, know that he thought about it - but the letter brought back those old emotions full force, settling with unease and a lump of sadness and guilt back into his chest, and he couldn't help but wonder –

_These emotions – I doubt they will ever go away, I doubt I will ever be able to forgive the newborn foal for what has happened, and how could I ever look at her – love her – and not think of the circumstances of her birth? How could I possibly even care for someone who might as well have killed her mother?_

Did Usagi feel that way about _him_?

* * *

Prince Akihiko's royal ball was being held at the royal palace, in a ballroom with bay windows that provided an easy view into the event. A rocky outcropping near one of the palace balconies, hidden by a growth of bushes, provided a particularly good view, especially of the prince as he greeted the guests from his place in the reception line. He wasn't, however, the reason Misaki had chosen the particular outpost to watch the proceedings, it was because... because...

Oh, who was he kidding! Of course the far-too-good-looking jerk was the reason he was here, spying on the proceedings like some sort of love sick girl. It was all the bastard's fault! If Usagi had never... had never...

gotten a job at the stables...

Misaki's anger was interrupted by a stabbing pain in his chest. As much as he hated to admit it, the idea of Usagi never having worked in the stables was not one his heart necessarily agreed would have been a good thing. Stupid Usagi, causing these emotions in him that made him come out here just to watch him flirt with pretty girls in fancy dresses, the kind he could never afford even if he worked til he was 103... not that he _wanted _to wear any dresses, mind you, but that wasn't the point...

The point was... the point was... that Usagi made no sense! First he claimed to have loved his brother for fifteen years, then he went and kissed Misaki, now he was smiling at princesses and nobles in a ridiculous ballroom. If Usagi didn't have any feelings for these girls, then why was he being all nice and welcoming to them? How could he possibly _be _with someone without loving them? Unless he was using them as hollow receptacles for his feelings, pretending they were the one he really loved - but then, he'd kissed Misaki... what if he was -

Misaki gulped. The thought was a stupid one, and he must be allergic to something in the bushes because he was tearing up now. No, Usagi wasn't that mean, he wouldn't hurt Misaki like that -

_How could I possibly even care for someone who might as well have killed his mother?_

Misaki was trembling now; he had to be sure not to make any noise, he wasn't supposed to be here, he could get into fair worse trouble then he was already in. The ladies meeting the reception line were really dwindling now, there were only a few left, then the dances would begin -

Quickly, Misaki jerked the binoculars he'd taken from his brother's desk; his eyes automatically focused on Usagi, and he felt his shoulders relax the moment he realized that the smile on Usagi's face was most definitely fake. It wasn't his real, natural smile, the one that made Misaki's heart hammer; these women didn't get to see that one, just his stupid fake one. A sliver of relief snaked through Misaki at the thought.

The woman next to Usagi - the older one with the make-up in the overwhelming dark purple gown - was she the queen? For some reason, seeing her face caused Misaki to shiver, even though the night was quite warm.

The orchestra started to play some dizzying waltz and the queen grabbed her son's arm and led him to a pretty young blonde in an elaborate ballgown, the color one that would be called pea green in polite company, puke green in any other. The gown was covered in snot-colored tassels, like it was some hideous rug some enterprising designer has decided to resell to gullible rich people, yet it failed to hide her shapely figure.

Misaki's assessment of the gown had nothing to do with that fact that she was currently dancing with his Usagi.

...Not that Usagi was _his_, or anything like that.

The song ended, and before the orchestra could strike up another, Usagi was walking towards the balcony, reaching for his cigarette pack as he did so. His mother seemed annoyed, but she put on a better face as she talked to the lady in the monstrosity of green fabric.

Usagi opened the balcony door and stepped out into the night. He lit up a cigarette and Misaki watched the flame in the dark. Usagi was so close, he could probably see –

_Oh shit_! Misaki dived into the bushes, away from the outcropping that was in Usagi's line of sight. He made far too much noise as he did so, and as he watched through the gaps between the leaves, he saw Usagi look shocked, then, with a sudden look of determination, stub out his cigarette before jumping over the balcony and landing with feline-esque grace.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit,_ Misaki thought as he took to a sprint, running away from Usagi, towards the stables. If he took Suzuki, he'd add "horse thief" to his list of Usagi-caused transgressions, but then he could write his brother from Kusama, tell him he was okay, but he had to get out of here as soon as possible. He could justify taking Suzuki, Usagi didn't deserve her -

He ignored the way his heart constricted at that thought.

There were the sounds of footsteps behind him, someone taking long strides that barely hit the ground, light and quick. It only compelled him to run faster, his muscles conditioned by horse back rides still hurting with the strain. The person behind him began to heave – _well, that's what the idiot gets for smoking so much_.

By the time he reached the stable doors, the sounds of heavy breathing and light footfalls had disappeared. _He must have given up on me._ The thought made him feel ill.

He still needed to get the heck away from the grounds he wasn't even supposed to be on, though, and all those thoughts about Suzuki had filled him up with a righteous rage, so he opened up the stable doors and slipped inside.

Even in the dark he could find his way through the stables with ease. The end of the stables contained a small covered lantern and case of oil in case the light went out; he lit it and walked to the nearest stall - Suzuki's.

She was wide awake and staring at him, as if she knew just what he was going to do. Shrugging off his moment of paranoia, he gently approached the stall. "Hey, girl," he said, reaching up with his empty hand to nuzzle her face. Her eyes fluttered shut and she gave a low whinny. "Yeah, I missed you, too."

Misaki gently entered the stable and hung up the lantern on an empty peg made for the purpose, far away from anything that could catch on fire. As quietly as he could he could, he gave her a sugar cube he'd taken with the lantern. "That's a good girl," he said as she accepted the cube. He went to take down the saddle, and his breath caught. It was Usagi's.

_Prince Akihiko's, _he reminded himself as he started to move again. The saddle was the only one there, and it wasn't like Usagi - Akihiko - _the Prince _used it anymore, anyway, so he went to pull it down. Unfortunately, it seemed stuck to the wall. Looking closely, he realized it had been tied to the wall in several places. Was that for additional protection from thieves or -

Suddenly, he heard light footsteps, followed by a padlock gate being opened. For a moment, he froze, heart pounding in his chest from a mix of adrenaline from fear and something else entirely.

Then he turned, blood rushing through his veins, and tried to make a run for it, barely looking at the person he was trying to dodge, only registering a flash of silver hair.

It was that man who caught Misaki as he tried to run by, one arm reached out to stop him, reminding Misaki of a game he played as a child (_red rabbit, red rabbit, make Misaki cohabit_). He shouldn't be this weak, should be able to break the barrier, but his body was prickling at the contact, his heart hammering, and the arm was strong, so strong -

"Misaki." The voice sent pleasant shivers down his spine and caused his stomach to twist, and his heart felt light, like he was happy, but he _shouldn't _be –

"Usami-sama," he replied, because he couldn't bring himself to call him _that _anymore, it was too precious –

There was a neigh from Suzuki that made its way to Misaki's ears as he felt himself pushed back, up against the stable wall, one strong hand holding his arms above his head, trapping them in its grip, and as his blood went south he found he couldn't break free –

"Misaki." This time he couldn't stop himself, he met the man's amethyst purple eyes, and his breath caught - he had never seen the man's face so distraught, like all the world's sorrows were held in his eyes, like all he'd ever known was pain, pain -

"Let me explain myself," Usagi said, hair falling into his eyes, and though his voice was quiet and strained it still sent shivers down Misaki's spine.

There really wasn't a choice. He'd been caught since the beginning, since the moment he first saw those eyes in this very stall.

"Okay," he said, and opened his ears to words he hoped would be what he so desperately wanted to hear.

* * *

**End notes:**

**The title of this chapter is a horse racing term, and refers to when a horse is pulled, for whatever reason, from a race - they're "scratched" (off the ticket? I'm not sure of the origin). Other sports might use this term as well, but I'm not aware of it. The question mark at the end of the title is for obvious reasons. **

**"Red rabbit" - a reference to Red Rover, the children's game that involves two sides, each making a human chain, and taking turns calling one member of the opponent's chain to run over and try to break through. If zhe does, zhe goes back to hir original chain; if not, zhe joins the one that "caught" hir. The original line is "red rover, red rover, send (name) over"; I changed the line to rhyme, and to make a kinda-sorta reference to the manga with the word "cohabit".**


	7. The Superfecta

**Notes: Okay, so this chapter, despite it's long time coming, might be rather... off. Because, uh, despite all my planning, I didn't really think things through and wrote myself into a corner. So the solution is all (I think) deus ex machina-y, but it was the only thing I could come up with. Also, it's dialogue heavy and quite long. (And I'd say more about the quality, but honestly I should just let you guys be the judge)**

**In any case, I have quite a bit of the next chapter already written, though it needs so much editing I have no idea when it will be finished. Please don't kill me...?**

**Also, I apologize to the reviewers I have neglected to reply to, which should be quite a few of you; it has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me and my rather bizarre social anxiety that's been getting worse for a while now. It's more or less making me feel ill to reply to older reviews for reasons that have to do with my social phobia (in other words: don't really make sense, I know they don't make sense, but I'm overwhelmed by them, so... yeah). **

**On a more general note: since FFN has decided to enforce it's 10-year-old MA ban to the point that people are all in a panic, my fics will also be published at Your Fanfiction (dot com, no spaces) under the same name I use here. I actually prefer that site, since the admins are actually active and don't suck, so if you've been wavering on posting there on not, please do! I'm also very slowly adding my stuff to my Dreamwidth account (currently under another name; I plan to change it, and when I do it will be linked in my profile), which is will be all tagged and should be trackable once it's up, as long as you have an OpenID (livejournal, Yahoo, and facebook are examples... there's also a site just for OpenID) but I honestly have no clue how tracking works. So... yeah. I'm not using LJ or IJ since I have issues with them both (LJ for the clusterfuck that was the change in format at the end of December, IJ for reasons that mostly have to do with its presentation), and AO3 intimidates me for some reason I'm not sure of, but probably have to do with my strange phobias. Mediaminer is pretty much dead, as is Ficwad, and I'm not posting to any selective archives. I think all that's left I could possibly post to is Tumblr, which honestly just confuses me. **

**Er, so, yes, to summarize that super long paragraph: also posting at Your Fanfiction and eventually to my Dreamwidth. **

**Anyway, all reviews are welcome, as always, and favorites and alerts are greatly appreciated.**

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Superfecta

In the shelter that was the stables, Akihiko prepared himself for the explanation to come. In the last few weeks, he'd been dealing with his mother, seeing just how far he was stuck in her manipulative traps, and he'd become even more determined to protect Misaki from her. Even as he'd felt hollow, like all the life force had been sucked out of him, as he greeted and danced with the princesses at the ball, he knew that whatever pain his future life held for him, he'd gladly take several times over it if it meant Misaki would never had to experience even a portion of the life that had been fated for Akihiko from birth.

The swirls of Misaki's green eyes were sucking him into their depths. There was a world around him, he knew, one that didn't consist of only him and Misaki, but in that moment all that really mattered was the latter.

"I think," he said, "it's best to start at the beginning."

And with that, he told his story to an attentive Misaki.

_T__he sky that day had been stormy, and Akihiko had wanted to laugh at the perfection of that, at just how much it mirrored his feelings. Just a few hours ago, his world had been turned upside down._

_Takahiro was getting married._

_His heart had felt as though it was trapped in a vice when he'd heard this; the world seem to crash around him. All those years of making sure his feelings didn't show on his face proved useful, as he'd been able to congratulate his friend with a smile and a hearty good-natured laugh. When Takahiro's break had ended – as well as Akihiko's time to see him – Takahiro had gone back to work with a smile on his face as well. "I'm so happy, Usagi-sama! I've never been so happy in my life before..."_

_As soon as Takahiro was out of sight, Akihiko ran. He wasn't sure where, and it didn't really matter; all that mattered was the fact that Takahiro was getting married._

_As a thunderclap sounded, Akihiko remembered, in his mind's eye, a picturesque haven that he could only get to by horseback. When he was younger, he'd lie on the grass and watch the clouds pass by, daydreaming of a place that wasn't here. He'd gotten the idea to find such a place from his friend Hiroki, who had a secret cove of his own, but the location was all his, a secret he kept in his heart and never let anyone know – which the exception of his horse, Suzuki. Then Suzuki had died giving birth, and he'd never been back, the only secret place he had to himself was entirely inside his head._

_Yet now, at a time when he could barely keep himself from breaking, he wanted – needed – to go back there, to be alone in a small glimpse of paradise. He'd been there when it was storming before, and though the tree branches had blown with tremendous force, he'd only found the place to be a different sort of beautiful, something, he'd thought morosely, closer to himself. _

_In his wild running, he'd already neared the stables, and he entered, throwing the doors open dramatically, then hunched over and tried to catch his breath. He walked with a sure stride to the end of the stables, the place where his own horse, Suzuki, was housed._

_It was only when he got there he realized the problem with his plan. _

_The Suzuki living know wasn't the one he knew and loved, but a facsimile, an impostor. The Suzuki he knew was dead, buried under the ground, and he could never capture that glimmer of happiness he'd known again._

_He walked into the stable, desperate and hopeful, but he found he couldn't face the new Suzuki, and instead slumped against the wall, exhausted. He was so sick of this._

_Nothing ever stayed the same. His world had never been one of stability and security, but instead one of an unsteady foundation that was held up by politics, bloodties, and manipulations. He was surrounded by people, but he still felt so lonely. Hiroki had been there in intellect, the person he could write long letters to, philosophizing uselessly about human nature, but Hiroki was also gruff and proud and prickly and complicated, all shielded and hiding, and Akihiko had seen that – been that – long enough that his friendship could only help so much; __at one point, Akihiko had almost stopped writing Hiroki about Takahiro after Hiroki had apparently gotten sick of his whining and called him indecisive. It wasn't wrong, exactly, but Akihiko had __smoldered for a while after reading that letter, and he had to remind himself, forcefully, that Hiroki didn't understand unrequited love since he'd never experienced it, and therefore had no idea how deeply scolding him __for his inability to express his feelings or get over them hurt. He'd spent enough time flailing himself over the futility of his emotions, he didn't need someone else doing so, too. But, really, Hiroki was too much like him; it was the exact type of thing he could see himself saying if he didn't understand the pain that comes with love unreturned. Hiroki didn't realize he was picking at an open wound. That's just who Hiroki was: like water, only he varied between incredibly hot and incredibly cold._

_In the end, Hiroki was mostly all mind, stuck in a cerebral world like Akihiko was, and it wasn't until that boyfriend of his came along that he seemed to get out of it. What Akihiko yearned to know was the heart, the gut— the parts that he'd never really known. Akihiko was too cold and extreme, and what he needed was a more moderate warmth. _

_Then there was Takahiro, all warmth and light heat, like candlelight, who was like no one else Akihiko had ever known: all honest and guileless because he didn't even think to be anything else. He was simple, yes, but that wasn't really a bad thing - Akihiko was complex enough for himself as it was. Takahiro had been a breath of fresh air, someone who had introduced himself__because of having read some of Akihiko's writing when he'd jotted down a story on one of the school desks in a fit of boredom.__ Takahiro had given him encouragement before then, via messages left on the desk, despite having no clue who__ the writer __was. When he realized, Takahiro had been apologetic for accidently not respecting Akihiko's rank in his rather casual replies, __but he had also e was so enthused by the writing he just had to read more of it. ("You're really talented. I never knew the prince of Masikyo had such a increadible hidden talent!") _

_Yet Takahiro didn't return his affection at the same level, unintentionally hurting Akihiko as he gave him such happiness. It was a double-edged sword, and he'd grown up with enough of those, but he couldn't help but still keep pining after Takahiro while still remaining friends with him. _

_Slumped over and overwhelmed, Akihiko let sleep claim him, his last thought a silent wish that someone, anyone, would come to save him from himself._

"And then… I met you: the hearth."

Throughout the story, Misaki's body had slowly relaxed, the tension leaving his body like smoke rising from the earth. As Akihiko got to end, tears had formed in Misaki's eyes.

"It's a really stupid metaphor, you know," Misaki said, his voice gruff as tears slid down his face. "It doesn't make any sense. Isn't everyone capable of warmth? Isn't that what being a human _is_?"

Akihiko smiled grimly. "My mother has never been a person of warmth. Rather, she has been a woman of ice, manipulative and Machiavellian."

Misaki bit his underlip. "You mentioned your mother before. As the reason we can't – but I don't understand – why –"

Akihiko took a deep breath, slowly gathering the words to explain things that had become a intrinsic part of his being. "My brother is, as you probably already know, not her son – he's the son of a mistress of my father's. But he's older than me."

"And that's why there's disagreement as to who should inherit the throne," Misaki added.

"Right. Along with our personalities... but I'll get to that. Anyway, when my mother married my father, she was already marrying someone farther below her in rank than normal. The match was made by my grandfather – my mother was his only child, and he felt that my father would, quite simply, make a good king. Something about my father impressed him, enough that he went down a bit in rank when he selected a husband for his daughter."

"A bit like my parents," Misaki mumbled, "though they did it out of love."

Akihiko nodded. "True. My parents never had warm and fuzzy feelings toward each other, that's for sure. But to continue – I'm not entirely sure of the details, but when Haruhiko was born, my mother was furious. Not only had my father betrayed her by sleeping with someone else - someone of lower rank, even - but he was usurping what she was so desperately trying to do at the time - have a heir. Her one goal, the one duty given to her in life, was to produce a heir to pass the kingdom onto, and he stripped her of that. Besides that, my mother's always been power hungry, desiring to control everyone around her. She likes to be in control, to the point that she can't stand if anyone goes against her."

Akihiko paused for a moment, listening quietly. He'd been distracted by his tale, and he was listening for footfalls. His mother might have sent guards out here, as he'd been gone for quite a bit now. The outside was quiet, though. Perhaps his instincts had been right: the guards had complained about guard duty tonight, having to watch over "the prodigal son because his mother is a bitch." He'd noticed throughout the ball that the gaurds had been inattentive, far more interested in the flesh on display then in Akihiko himself. As far as Akihiko knew, the guards were not on his mother's side, since she'd increased the amount of guard duty without pay or hiring other guards after Akihiko's resistance in the form of impersonating a stable worker. The guards didn't like Akihiko much either, but at least he had protested against the increase of security, citing overworked guards being unhappy, lousy guards. It had been partially out of true concern for them, but also a calculated move on his part, and it seemed to have worked. They were more than likely dragging their feet in their search, and the stables was far enough from the castle they'd be reluctant to venture out, and his mother would never dare to dirty herself by looking for him on her own. Plus, she'd have to convince the princesses Akihiko was still a good catch, despite his apparent reluctance to spend more than a single dance with any of them. She was more than likely pretending he was preparing something or had momentarily taken off due to a slight illness, but nothing to worry about, nothing that would pollute a royal bloodline.

Satisfied with his temporary safety, he returned to speaking. "Anyway, at the time, the citizens were convinced my mother would never produce a heir, and Haruhiko would ascend the throne - an idea she couldn't stand."

Misaki nodded, his eyes never leaving Akihiko's. They were open and wide and understanding, and it made Akihiko's heart thump painfully for a moment, that he would have to let Misaki leave him.

But he continued on with his story. "Then, she had me.

"I think my mother thought when she had me, my father would pay attention to her more. I'm not sure if she loved him, or was just angry he'd fallen out of her grasp and control, but in any case, it didn't happen."

Misaki frowned and scrunched his brows in confusion. "But you're still the only legitimate son, I don't see why there's such controversy; your mother's the heir to the throne, it's her bloodline that's most important – "

Akihiko gave a painful little smile. "Ah, that might be more of my fault. You see, I was never a popular prince. Haruhiko was far better liked, and I was always the odd one, the one who didn't like being in groups and just wanted to go off on my own. My mother, as far as I know, has never liked me – as far as I can tell, I'm pretty much the embodiment of all her failures: my father doesn't really like or pay attention to me, my unpopularity has been a reminder of hers, and my disinterest in the throne –- and the fact that some people believe it's actually my brother's birthright, partially because they like my father more, and my father was handpicked by my grandfather, also a more popular King – means that she never really produced a _proper_ heir."

Misaki looked thoughtful, and then shrugged. "Okay, your mother has issues –" Usagi snorted at that understatement – "but I don't understand what that has to do with… us."

"I've never perfectly been kept in line by my mother's demands. While she can threaten me, I've managed to evade her control more than once, and my disobedience in not marrying has really pissed her off. There's really only so much my mother could do – until now. She has a trump card. And that trump card is you, Misaki." Misaki looked at him quizzically, but didn't say anything at that. Akihiko took a deep breath, then continued. "I managed to negotiate with my mother for a reduction in your sentence, but that's not going to be enough. My mother knows she can use you to get to me. If I'm ever to upset her, even step out of line, then you'll be punished. Your entire well-being will depend on me, and my obedience – and my mother's temper. And my mother doesn't really like you, so you'll basically be living your life one misstep away from a year in the dungeons, and believe me, you don't want that. This is why you have to get Kusama as soon as possible. Once you're there, you're no longer under my mother's thumb, and are out of danger."

"Alright," Misaki said, comprehension dawning on his face before he stopped for a moment and hesitatingly asked, "But then why the ball? Why do you have to stay behind?"

Akihiko sighed. "Because once you're in Kusama, the only reasons I could see my mother risking hunting you down is if I don't ascend the throne or give her a heir. So as long as I follow that…"

Misaki was trembling slightly, and the damp light of the stables only enhanced the brightness caused by the tears starting to form in his green eyes. "But I don't understand - why am I even _that_ important? How could you even –"

The next words from Akihiko's mouth felt so completely natural, he was amazed he'd never said them before. "I love you."

Misaki just stared at him for a moment, eyes wide and pupils blown. "But... why? I'm just some commoner – I may be 'the hearth', as you put it, but I'm also poor and not very bright and... I'm a murderer."

If there was one thing Akihiko wasn't expecting, it would that. Misaki was the type of person who couldn't even hurt a wasp desperately trying to sting him. He'd just fell bad for the wasp. "What are you talking about?"

Misaki hung his head. "I killed my mother with my birth. I was _born_ a murderer."

Akihiko sighed, massaging his temple. This he could understand. Misaki had a major guilt complex. He'd never really hurt someone. "Misaki, you didn't have any choice over that. You need to forgive yourself for being born in such tragedy; it wasn't something you could control."

There was heavy silence. Misaki swallowed and dropped his gaze from Akihiko, his eyes focusing on the ground. "But… what you wrote about Suzuki…"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

Misaki's eyes went wide with disbelief as Akihiko just looked at him in confusion. He knew Misaki had read the letters he'd written Takahiro, but he had no clue what he was referencing. "After the elder Suzuki died – you said you could never love someone who'd caused, however indirectly, their own mother's death!"

Akihiko rolled his eyes at his past self. He'd always been rather dramatic. A bit like Misaki was being now, actually. "Oh, that."

Misaki just looked pissed off, and Akihiko couldn't help but think it was strangely kind of adorable. Then again, Misaki and adorableness went together like … something that went really well together. General fucked-up-ness and being a Usami? "Yes, _that_! How can you just dismiss your own words – "

Akihiko smiled at him, and Misaki paused in his rambling, his face taking on a more innocent look and a blush rising in his cheeks and down his neck. Akihiko wondered just how much hidden flesh that blush now covered, and his stomach twisted at the thought he'd never find out. "One of the greatest gifts you've given me, Misaki, is for me to get past my own pity party and see that the current Suzuki is a perfectly good horse, one that doesn't deserve my anger at her. The anger was misplaced."

Misaki still looked so sad, like a poor, pitiful puppy. "But... how can people not hate me for being born..."

Akihiko only let his smile widen. "No one hates you for that, because they like you. _I_ like you. I _love_ you. And I… would do anything to stop you from hurting."

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the smallest of whispers, barely audible: "then why are you leaving me?"

Misaki started blushing harder, but he was meeting Akihiko's eyes with a look of tamed fire. Akihiko could only stare at him incredulously. That was the last thing he'd expected Misaki to say. It was actually rather... selfish. "Misaki?"

"You're the only thing I've really ever wanted! How can I let that be taken away from me?" Misaki pratically glistened in his obstinate determination, a spark in his eyes Akihiko wasn't quite sure he'd ever seen before. "I won't let you suffer for me. I lived me whole life battling a fear that whatever move I'll make will only hurt people — especially those I care about. That I would be the source of someone's pain. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, too. I apologize for my selfishness, Usagi-san, but I can't let you suffer for me."

There was a lump in Akihiko's throat, thick and mildly painful. His eyes were stinging. "Misaki, please, there's no choice – "

"There _is_ a choice!" Misaki shouted, and Akihiko reeled back, surprised. "I don't care if your mother is a living monster – there has to be another option, we just have to keep looking!"

"Misaki, there is nothing we can do – "

But Misaki was hearing none of it. "C'mon, think, you idiot!" He shook off Akihiko's slackened hold and started pacing. "There must be something we can do... you're supposed to be the smart one, not me... if you came to Kusama with me – "

"Then my mother would just start a war or send an espionage mission – "

"She can do that?" Misaki said, looking at him curiously. "Start a war all on her own? And everyone will just follow along?"

"Well, no," Akihiko admitted, "there's enough dissent the Head of Arms might not agree with her to go to war, and if he doesn't agree, then they have to get the King's seal of approval, along with the approval of a new Head of Arms, whose appointment also has to be approved by all of the royal family – " Akihiko grinned. "Which Haruhiko would never agree to." The Head of Arms was known to be a supporter of Haruhiko, who he'd always been closer to in their youths, when they would be forced to spar with eachother as part of "training". Also, he was fairly old, and had never been a war-monger. Suddenly, there was a light at the end of a tunnel, so close he could almost taste the triumph – but then – "but she doesn't need approval for an espionage mission."

Misaki, whose face had started to take on an almost unnatural glow, slumped forward, seemingly defeated. He swallowed audibly. "Well, if we're in Kusama... wouldn't that be seen as an assault on them?"

"Not if she gets them to cooperate," Akihiko said grimly. "And she can be rather persuasive. The only reason you'd be protected is because the Ward of a State is considered a protected status, on the basis that if they were to allow them to be used as diplomatic pawns, the whole War Orphan rule would be useless. The only one they give any thing similar to is refugees..."

"That's it!" Misaki shouted once more, his face lighting up again. "You could just ask for refugee status!"

Akihiko raised an eyebrow. "On what condition?"

Misaki just rolled his eyes. "I dunno, 'if I go back my mother will make my life a living hell, forcing me to do what I don't want, torturing me, and forcing me into a loveless marriage' – they give refugee status to just about anybody, from what I heard – why, just last week they granted refugee status to a couple consisting of two woman because they were being threatened back in their home country – "

"Really?" Akihiko stared at Misaki. "Huh, weird, I don't know that."

"Yep," Misaki said, nodding his head, "and they're all for the whole 'marry for love thing'. I think their Prince is marrying his male lover, too, even though it will mean an adopted orphan having to be a heir –"

"Wait, Hiroki's getting married?" Akhiko titled his head slightly. "How come I didn't hear about it?" His last correspondence, albeit quite a few months ago, hadn't mentioned anything of the sort.

Misaki's draw dropped open, almost completely unhinged. Akihiko wasn't aware anyone could actually do that. He decided not to ponder what that meant about Misaki's potentially ability in giving a blowjob. "Wait – you _know_ the prince of the country of Kusama?"

"Yes...?" Akihiko said, not seeing where this was heading. "He was my first childhood, we're still rather close – "

Misaki smacked his forehead. "So let me get this straight: your friends with the heir apparent to Kusama kingdom?"

"Yes."

"Right. And your mother is a terrible person who no human being can really stand?"

Akihiko nodded. "Sounds about right."

"And you're being forced into a future you don't want, a future that would consist of an unhappy, loveless marriage and a possibly very displeased and long-suffering princess?"

"Uh, yes."

"And the kingdom you just happen to know one of the future kings of is known for their defense force and willingness to let suffering people live in their borders?"

"Yep."

"And your mother, who is pretty much the entire reason you say you can't be with me, isn't even approved of by the whole kingdom, and there's a lot of people who are loyal to your half-brother, enough to cause conflict if you ever left willingly and were forced back?"

Akihiko paused at this one. Actually, now that Misaki was mentioning it, most of Haruhiko's supporters were in the army or guard. The nobles, too, were generally more his mother's enemies than her friends. "Uh, yes?"

Misaki stared. "And you still think you _have_ to stay here or your mother will find you and punish you, despite all the conditions that would prevent her from doing so?"

"You haven't met my mother."

Misaki raised an eyebrow. "Honestly? I think you're making your mother out to be more dangerous then she really is. There are people who actively don't like her, there's another heir – really, the only person your mother has absolute power over... is you."

Akihiko wanted to deny it. He'd fought tooth and nail to slip from his mother's grip for years, finding ways of resistance were he could. Afterall, he couldn't just leave – could he? "I tried to run away once. It failed."

Misaki just sighed, and gave him a weak smile. "But I'll be with you. I can take care of the small stuff, okay? I know how to get by. Please, give us this chance?"

Akihiko looked into Misaki's eyes. No matter what he said, it was still risky. Kusama refusing to hand Akihiko over, or foiling espionage attempts, could be send as an attack on the sovereignty of Masikyo, which would be enough to spark a war. But... it wasn't likely... there was a chance... a very good one... and if that _did_ happen, he could always just return to Masikyo, no matter the consequences, to prevent a war...

Why hadn't he thought of this sooner?

"You're really an idiot," Misaki said, and Akihiko realized he'd said the last thought out loud. "But I love you, anyway."

The only thing left for Akihiko to do was smile and envelop Misaki in his welcoming arms.

"My brother left for the night to a fancy inn," Misaki mumbled into Akihiko's chest, and Akihiko noticed the teenager's face was bright red. "Do you think we could sneak out of here and to my house?"

Akihiko smile gained a lecherousness; he then purred into the boy's ear, "I'd love to, Misaki."

Then a voice interrupted, piercing through the warmth Akihiko now felt. "Actually, you're not going anywhere."

Misaki's eyes widened and he started to shake. Akihiko understood why; a shiver had run down his own spine the moment he'd heard the voice.

"Hello, mother," Akihiko said, turning around to face the woman; she was flanked by the royal guards and Akihiko's father and half-brother loomed behind her, barely visible in the shadows. "Do you really want to play this game now?"

* * *

**Endnotes:**

**Hiroki's bit about Akihiko being indecisive is more or less from the Shinoda arc in the manga (Blu translation). **

**The bit about Takahiro finding Akihiko's story on his desk and asking him to continue and seeking him out are a slightly adapted version from something that never got an official translation – a DVD extra, I think? – but nonetheless there are scanlations of hanging about the internet.**

**Via Wikipedia: "The **_**superfecta**_** is a type of wager in parimutuel betting in which the bettor, in order to win, must pick the first four finishers of a race in the correct sequence." How obvious is it that I was raised by someone who often bets on horse races?**


	8. Gallop

**So, despite all this time, I still have issues with this chapter... but the delay is rather ridiculous. So, here we go. Apologies if a line or two is a little too cheesy...**

**After all this time, I ended up with an entirely new idea that I wanted to incorporate about a certain character's past. Basically: there will be a lot of flashbacks and OCs in a future chapter, and some new world building details, but I'm really looking forward to writing it, so hopefully it will work out okay.**

**Anyway, this chapter has some light smut in it. It's not exactly my strong point writing wise, but hopefully I did alright. Also, rules of safe sex are eschewed, but this **_**is**_** fanfic, and taking place in the sort of middle ages, so I think it's not really a problem. **

**I'll try to reply to reviews sometime this week. I can't say when the next chapter will be up, but I can say I have pieces of it written already. Thank you for your patience with me. I know what's it like to have a long wait for fic; I really am trying to put this together with some speed.**

**Enjoy. All reviews welcome, as always.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Gallop

"There's no game, Akihiko, only me foiling your attempts to get away from me," his mother said, a cruel and yet genuine smile on her face. "Like I always have. You were supposed to be my source of happiness, my son, rather than my source of despair."

"Is your family always this dramatic?" Misaki mumbled from where he was watching the events unfold next to Akihiko.

"More or less." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before meeting his brother's eyes. "Haruhiko – the throne's yours. I formally renounce any claim I have to the throne, as long as the guards don't touch Misaki. Or me."

"That's ridiculous," his mother said, rolling her eyes. "Guards! Take this boy to the dungeon, and my son to his quarters."

This was it. The moment of truth. The guards slowly started to walk towards Akihiko and Misaki, and Akihiko took their reluctance as a good sign. He looked back at his elder sibling, and for once, let his emotions show on his face, silently pleading with his brother to do what was right. His heart thumped painfully when Haruhiko promptly dropped his gaze.

But then Haruhiko lifted his head. "Guards, halt," he said, his clear voice ringing throughout the stables, and without hesitation they stopped. Haruhiko meet Akihiko's gaze again. "Prince Akihiko, I accept your relinquishment of the throne, and therefore, as son of King Fuyukiko the First, claim the throne as my own."

"No!" Akihiko's mother shouted at Haruhiko. "You can't do that! As Queen, I refuse to accept my only biological son's relinquishment! Guards, take my son and this stableboy prisoner, by order of the Queen!"

The guards looked at each other anxiously. Akihiko's father sighed and stepped forward, his hand massaging his temple. "Kimi-chan," he said, "it's time to give up the ghost."

Kimiko whirled around and pointed at her husband as she shook. "You!" she hissed, her voice lined with venom. "How dare you call me _that _name! You know only — "

She didn't finish the sentence. Instead, her face lost its fierceness and her voice started to quake. Akihiko had never seen his mother like this.

"I know," his father said. "But do you think _that person _would approve of what you're doing?"

The ferocity crept back into his mother's face. "What does it matter? They're dead now."

His father sighed, giving his wife a look of_ — pity_…? "You shouldn't let history repeat itself, Kimiko."

Kimiko's face twisted even further into something almost inhuman. "How dare you even suggest that! I'm not —"

"Not one hundred percent, no, but in spirit…" his father trailed off, looking at Kimiko expectantly.

For a moment, she looked absolutely crestfallen. Then she regained her composure. "No! He —" she pointed at Akihiko, even though she continued to gaze fiercely at his father, "is all I have! He's my legacy! My duty has always been to produce the kingdom's next heir! And yet, I don't even have that…" She dropped her husband's gaze, murmuring, so quietly Akihiko could barely hear it, "she would have it instead…"

His father just sighed again. "Please, you think I _want_ him to leave? But look at the facts, Kimi-chan: twenty-eight years under our control, and he _still_ chose a barely legal stable boy to run off with. He doesn't belong on the throne, and you know it." He paused for a moment, and then added, "and, as I no longer recognize him as my heir from now on, Haruhiko is now the only recognized heir to the throne."

"No! I have never accepted Haruhiko as a potential heir! And my word is greater than yours," she faltered, "the blood that runs in my veins –- "

"You're wrong, mother," Akihiko said, speaking up finally. "Do you remember when you had me study law so I could understand the court system? In the courts, royal blood is not formally recognized, as your dear father established some time before I was even born. And when there's a discrepancy between both rulers as to a decision, the deciding factor _is _the court system. And, considering I just relinquished the throne..."

"Well, that settles it then," his father said, before his mother could get a word in edgewise. "We can settle this whole squabble tomorrow in court."

His mother glared. "Fine! But know this: just because royal blood isn't formally recognized, it doesn't mean the judge won't consider it!"

His father frowned, eyebrow cocked, and looked about to say something, but a high-pitched whinny sounded throughout the stables, drowning out whatever he wanted to say. Walking from her pen, Suzuki was making her way to the front, and Misaki was on her back, seated in Akihiko's saddle that was actually too big for him. "Usagi-san!" He called out, and offered his hand to Akihiko. "Come on, I know an alternate exit on the other side." Akihiko forgo grasping Misaki's hand, not wanting to accidentally knock him off, and instead hooked his ridiculously fancy boot into the stirrup and pulled himself up onto the saddle, lifting Misaki so he was sitting on his lap. It was more than a little strange, especially since Misaki was squirming in an attempt to get in a more comfortable position, but somehow, it worked.

"Horse thief!" his mother shouted. "You're not absolved of this crime!"

"Actually, I'm perfectly fine with Misaki taking my horse," Akihiko said as Misaki used the reins to turn around. "If you don't order the guards to pursue me, I have no problem coming back tomorrow to hash this all out in court. But if you don't... well, your guards will be on a horse chase in a city. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"

The guards just took one look at the Queen and collectively started to leave. "You can't leave yet! Come back here! I'll torture all you traders!"

"Actually, Kimiko, it's time for changing of the guard," Fuyuhiko said. "They're perfectly able to leave. Although, if I remember correctly, oddly enough, there's only one assigned guard tonight for the rest of the night. Probably because... oh, because you decided to use nearly the entire guard to guard the ball. I forgot."

"Later, mother," said Akihiko. "If you want to save any dignity, I recommend you don't try to follow."

"So, is your mother staying back at the castle?" Misaki said.

Akihiko relaxed into the saddle. "She wouldn't bother. I said I'm going back tomorrow, and she hates being in the city almost more than she hates me. She's probably going to go through her contacts and try to figure out the best way to bribe the judge."

Misaki just stared at him. "But — then, we —"

"Don't worry about it," Akihiko said. "My father will be sure to bribe the judge, too. It will certainly all work out in our favor."

"Your family is out of their minds," Misaki mumbled. "Fucking royalty."

"Tell me about it," Akihiko mused. Misaki's face grew a sudden blush, and Akihiko decided now would be a very good time to find out just how far it went.

The Takahashi house was filled with shadows when Akihiko and Misaki reached it. What little light they had was from the moonlight shining in through the windows.

Still, Misaki seemed to have no difficulty guiding Akihiko to a small room with only one window, a small lacquered chest, a side table, and a bed. Even in the low light, Akihiko could clearly see Misaki blush.

"Is there a lamp or something in that chest?" Akihiko asked.

Misaki frowned. "Why?"

"I want to be able to see you, Misaki."

There was a heavy silence.

"I — we don't…" Misaki sighed. "Alright," he mumbled.

Misaki exited the room and came back quickly, an oil lamp and a small tin of lamp oil in his hands. He set the lamp down on the end table and poured in a small amount of the lamp oil, then struck a match, bringing it to life.

The yellow light the lamp cast lead to more shadows and a very clear vision of Misaki. He was blushing fully, wringing his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet. His pupils were already dilated, the irises starting to darken.

Misaki may have had the courage to lead Akihiko there, but he certainly didn't have the gumption to initiate. That was fine with Akihiko; he certainly had no problem taking the reigns.

Akihiko could see Misaki's pupils widening further the moment their lips meet, and when their tongues did the same, Misaki began moaning. He held on to Akihiko tightly, his hands digging into the overpriced fabric of his shirt. Akihiko let his hands wander, trying to find the sensitive spots on Misaki's body while his tongue did the same in Misaki's mouth.

Nipples were a highly erogenous spot for Misaki, it turned out, along with multiple spots on his ass, back, and hips. Akihiko's lips caused a lovely response —keening and hands trying to gasp further — when he pressed them against the inlet of Misaki's collarbone, and his tongue found several places, including the ridge of his ears and jawline, were Misaki responded just as well.

Akihiko tried to memorize every point, blowing gently against Misaki's ear as his hands twisted his nipples, causing Misaki to arch his back and cry out beautifully.

Still, there was only so long both of them could last, and Akihiko had no intentions of leaving Misaki with a single piece of clothes on.

Even so, as Akihiko's hands started to pull of Misaki's shirt, Misaki's hands moved to grab his wrists, stopping him.

Akihiko raised an eyebrow. "We're going to need to take your clothes off, Misaki, if you want me to fu-"

"I know!" Misaki shouted, his cheeks a vibrant vermilion. "It's just… can you take off yours first?" He barely managed to say the last lines; they were choked out as his face somehow went redder.

Akihiko raised an eyebrow but started to comply, glad to be finally taking off the ridiculous get up he'd worn at his mother's behest. Now really wasn't the best time to think of his mother, though; he focused on Misaki instead, a smirking forming as he met his lover's lust-heavy gaze.

"Is my Misaki a voyeur? I have some books, you know…"

Somehow, Misaki's blush continued to go deeper. "Shut up! That's not —" He bit his lip. "All those gorgeous princesses got to see you in that outfit!"

Akihiko paused in the act of shrugging off his shirt. "Ooh?" he purred, "you're jealous, then?"

Misaki's eyes widened before he closed them tight and used his arms to block his face. "Stupid Usagi!"

Akihiko needed to take off his suddenly too tight pants and undergarments.

The nights this time of year were thankfully warm. His hands, however, ignored this fact.

"Your hands are cold," Misaki mumbled, jumping slightly as his lover's hands touched his abdomen as he pulled off the teenager's shirt, tweaking a nipple as they went.

"They've always been that way," he replied. He was delighted to discover Misaki's blush went rather far down.

It was after fully undressing Misaki, love marks now dotting the boy's chest, and Misaki's eyes watering but still watching him, chest heaving, that Akihiko saw the definite evidence of Misaki's attraction to him.

"I see you're good mood," he said as the his thumbs brushed over the head; Misaki only gave a delightful shiver in response.

Akhiko was not a virgin. Despite his inability to consummate his love for years, his own physical desires had led him to bed servants and nobles alike, bribing them later into silence. It had always been quick, as it was always only for physical release, but even so Akihiko had learned quite a few things from those experiences, such as exactly how to give an excellent blow job. He was grateful for that knowledge now, as Misaki's mewls and cries hit a new intensity and pitch, hands grasping Akihiko's hair as he worked his tongue in just the right way. Misaki was very much the vocal type, it turned and out, and Akihiko had always been good with languages.

Still, he was slightly surprised when he felt a salty liquid start to pour down his throat, but he had no problems swallowing.

When he'd finished, he lifted himself up, hands on the bed by Misaki's sides. He watched Misaki shudder, his eyes rolled back and still moaning, still riding out his orgasm.

Misaki looked beautiful like that, skin gleaming with sweet, his chest heaving as he experienced such intense pleasure.

The facial expressions Misaki made were amazing. For once, Akihiko was determined to make a sexual partner feel good; Misaki's pleasure only intensified his own. This time was different; Akihiko could the love etched into every one of Misaki's movements, and he tried to give back as much love in his own. The blush powdered across Misaki's face, his eyes scrunched tight and watering from pleasure, body quivering as his moaning filled the room, Misaki was more than just beautiful. He was blossoming beautifully beneath him, living up to his name.

Misaki, Akihiko reflected, was spring, verdant eyes aglow with the life the season breathed into the world, his hair the color of soil of newly thawed earth. He was renewal and pure energy, the world come springing back to life after being frozen for so long.

Yet Akihiko felt he himself had never been correctly named; if anything, he was winter, his hair the color of dirty old snow, his eyes the tint of the season's sunrises. Yet Misaki came in and caused him to thaw, bringing him to life.

Spring was associated with rabbits, and Misaki was the one of the few to use his nickname, and the first to use it without a formal clunky title. It was all so very… poetic.

His prosaic writer's mind was interrupted by his own need. As much as he loved taking his time and watching Misaki enjoy himself, he knew that he couldn't wait much longer; he could already feeling himself leaking. He looked about the room and ended up reaching for some lamp oil, slicking down his fingers and then himself, before lifting up Misaki's legs and slowly entering him with his finger.

Misaki felt fantastic, so tight and hot, and Akihiko couldn't wait to be truly inside him. Still, he took his time, gently scissoring Misaki to prepare him for what was to come. He was pleased to see Misaki, now fully post-orgasm, starting to rise again at this ministrations. Truly, Misaki's age was an asset here.

"Ah!" Misaki cried out suddenly, back arching and eyes going wide, dark, dusky, the green barely visible. "What was that?"

"This?" he said, curling his finger in the same spot he'd just done so, watching with delight as Misaki shuddered and arched his back further. "Ah, just something to make it all feel good."

Misaki didn't say anything in response, just groaned as Akihiko took his finger out and lined himself up.

"This might hurt a bit, but it will also feel good eventually, I promise."

Misaki's cry of pain and his entrance twisted his heart even as the rest of his body was overwhelmed by the warmth Misaki possessed, the heat constricting around him as Misaki adjusted to his girth. Akihiko had to control his urge to just sink into that further.

"Tell me when I can move," he said to Misaki.

He stayed still , waiting patiently; it was long before he heard Misaki's breathing start to slow down, his body start to relax.

"Go ahead," Misaki said.

Akihiko nodded and moved inside his lover, groaned as he continued to take him in. Misaki was so perfect, and he delighted in hearing his sensual cries of pleasure.

He angled himself to hit the spot he'd found before. It wasn't difficult, and Misaki certainly seemed appreciated of his efforts.

He thrust in and out, Misaki grasping, his hands and feet in spasm as Akihiko built up a rhythm.

"Can I come inside you?" he asked, and couldn't help but smirk and Misaki's resulting embarrassment. Still, he acquiesced to Akihiko before his body went rigid and he went over the edge, shivering, gasping, moaning as he did so. The hot clench of muscle sent Akihiko to the height of pleasure as well, vision turning white at his zenith of ecstasy.

_This is what sex feels like with someone I love_, he thought, _and it's a million times better than those before._

* * *

After he had fully come down from his orgasmic high, Misaki couldn't help but notice how — well, _sticky_ he was, along with the sheets beneath him.

He'd dealt with this stickiness before, but only in the mornings, after dreams that left him panting and blushing, as opposed to, well, the actual, real live act of what he'd been dreaming of – which, really, was far better.

There was the rise of the slope of the bed as Usagi got out.

Startled, he turned his head and looked at the man, who was standing, his gorgeous body illuminated in the candlelight. It was almost enough for Misaki to want another round.

He unconsciously licked his lips.

"What are you doing, Usagi-san?" he asked.

Usagi paused and turned to look at him. "Cleaning up," he said.

Misaki blushed. "I was planning on doing that," he said. "In another minute."

"It's okay, I've got it," Usagi said, uncertainly casting his eyes about. "I just need to… find the sink…"

Misaki sighed. "I said I've _got_ it," he began, "you have no idea where everything is —"

He almost collapsed to the floor as soon as he got out of bed.

_Oww. _There was a very unwelcome pain in his backside. Misaki looked up at Usagi and glared.

"Huh," Usagi said, unfazed, "I would have thought all that time horseback riding would have helped in that regard."

"What?" Misaki said.

"Don't worry about it, it's unimportant," he said, shrugging it off. "Anyway, if you tell me where the sheets are kept, I can fix it up myself."

"You sure? Haven't you had servants do that before?" Misaki said, frowning and rubbing his backside.

Usagi waved his hand dismissively. "Please, how hard can it be?"

True, all he had to do was plop some sheets on the bed. "In the wardrobe by the apron and the washbin, in the kitchen area."

Usagi took off and Misaki tried his best to get up despite the throbbing pain. He was still sticky himself, but any personal cleaning supplies were far enough away…

Usagi came back rather quickly, sheets in his arm along with a full basin and a small cloth. He wiped Misaki down, then himself; the smell of sex still permeated the room, but at least they were clean.

"Thank you," Misaki said.

Usagi nodded, taking one of the soft pillows and offering it to Misaki to sit on. Misaki received the cushion with a buzzing feeling of warmth filling his chest. He watched Usagi changing the sheets.

Or trying to.

Somehow, Usagi was screwing this up, too.

In the end, Usagi had one half of the messy sheet still on the bed and part of a clean sheet covering the other half. He scratched his head. "You commoners sure are talented…"

Misaki rolled his eyes. "I'll do it," he mumbled, doing his best to ignore the pain as he completed the job.

Usagi didn't say a thing as they got into bed and under the sheets, both still without clothes. It was only when he was lying comfortably between the sheets, face buried in Misaki's hair, that he spoke.

"Thank you." His voice was a sweet vibration against Misaki's head.

"For what?" Misaki crumpled his nose. "For changing the sheets? Someone had to do it."

"For being you," Usagi replied, "and for having a beautiful heart and soul understanding enough to accept a man like me."

Misaki pretended the tears forming in his eyes were from the irritation caused by some stray hairs of his bangs. "I love you," he said softly, his voice thick and a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

There was a slight bit of movement as Usagi met Misaki's gaze. His eyes held a beautiful heliotropic fire, and he was smiling. He had a magnificent smile. Misaki hoped to see it a million times more.

"And I love you," he replied. There was a poignant silence. "Sleep well, my Misaki."

"Same to you." Misaki paused before forcing himself to choke out, "my rabbit."

Usagi only continued to smile.

Misaki held Usagi as tight as he could and closed his eyes, ready to face the uncertain dawn.

* * *

The sheets were a rough cotton, far more scratchy than the silk he was used to. The pillow beneath his head wasn't filled with goose feathers, and the mattress beneath him wasn't, either. There was a gentle warmth radiating from beside him, and the soft sound of breathing. For a moment, Akihiko almost couldn't breathe himself; last night had _not_ been the dream of a fervent and lovesick imagination. When he opened his eyes, he was not greeted by the cold masonry of the castle, but the warm wood of the bedroom of a commoner. A very certain commoner — Takahashi Misaki, his beloved.

He wanted to stay in that moment forever, Misaki beside him and far from the cage of stone he'd grown up in. But, alas, he could not; his mother would track him down if he didn't return to the castle for arguing in court.

There was a part of him that was afraid that his mother would win out in the end. He kept telling himself the possibility of that happening was slim, but the fear that loomed within him like a deep abyss wouldn't go away.

He felt Misaki shift beside him and did his best to snap out of his gloom. It wouldn't do him any good to worry.

He gently lifted himself from the bed, careful not to wake his bedmate. He stood up, about to stretch, and gazed at the bed. He stopped mid-stretch as he was almost overwhelmed with awe.

Misaki, bathed in the early morning light, was asleep, sheets twisted around his body. Skin peeked out where the sheets didn't cover, and even though his mouth was open slightly and he was drooling, arms splayed above the bed haphazardly, it was still one of the most beautiful sights Akihiko had ever seen, a picturesque tableau he almost could not look away from.

But he had to. He tore his eyes away and stretched out his sore muscles; he hoped he hadn't hurt Misaki too much last night. He made his way across the creaky floorboards slowly.

He didn't bother to pick up his clothes. They had to be washed, along with him; he'd cleaned himself and Misaki up with a basin last night, but he knew he needed a proper bath. Takahiro had extra clothes he could borrow. He'd feel bad about it, except Takahiro had given him permission when he was younger and they'd talked of a sleepover that never happened. Besides, he could always pay Takahiro back tenfold.

That thought made him pause in his tracks. Could he? Would he be able to, after — how was he going to _live_? He didn't exactly have skills —

It didn't matter. All that mattered was Misaki. They'd make it out somehow; he knew they would.

Satisfied, Akihiko made his way into Takahiro's bedroom. It struck him as strange how not long ago he'd have given anything to be in here, Takahiro by his side as they made their way to the bed, but now that fantasy didn't appeal to him at all. All he wanted to do was to get back to Misaki.

Takahiro's room was the same size as Misaki's. The largest room they used as some sort of study, since neither of them could feel good about taking up a bedroom larger in size than the other's. They couldn't be more different from everything and everyone he'd ever known.

Takahiro kept his clothes stored in a chest by his bed. There wasn't a key; they had no need for one. As Akihiko started to pull out an outfit to wear for the day, a small box came tumbling out of the chest.

The heavy box was gilded and ornate, though covered with a thin layer of dust; Akihiko gently blew against the box, causing the dust to swirl off the box and hang in the air before dissipating completely. For some reason, Akihiko could swear he'd seen a box like this before, though exactly where he could not recall.

The lid of the box was what really caught Akihiko's attention. Engraved with colored metals was a design he'd recognize anywhere; the purple shield with black furs, the golden crown resting atop it, the banner below and ivy curling along the sides. Except on the shield itself...

On the upper left was the bear grasping salmon representing the royal house of Usami. Akihiko had seen it enough times to know it at a moment's glance. As for the rest of the symbols...

The heraldry of the house of Usami was slightly odd in that the other three symbols on the shield were somewhat unique to the individual. Two of the symbols, to the upper right and bottom left, represented the father and mother, respectively. On Akihiko's own, for example, rested his father's bull's head and his mother's chimera. His brother's was similar, only with the chimera being a yellow rose instead — a sign of infidelity and envy; Akihiko's mother had picked out that one herself. The final symbol, in the lower right hand corner, was that of the individual. Akihiko had lazily chosen a rabbit on his sixteenth birthday, when the crest was designed as was custom; Haruhiko had drawn a castle for his own.

But this crest...

He'd seen the mother and father's symbols – an azalea and a lion's head – before, on his own mother's crest. But in the bottom right corner was a white rose, not the chimera of his mother's design. He'd never seen the white rose before, not on any family shield...

He knew he shouldn't open the box. It wasn't his. But… what if it turned out he and Misaki were related? Akihiko shuddered. No, that didn't matter, but…

He looked over his shoulder. The house was quiet. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he looked inside. Besides, it clearly belonged to the royal family…

Shrugging away feelings of guilt that were starting to come up in his gut, and forcefully telling himself he was not like his mother, his mother would demand the owner open it in front of her, that was very different from what he was about to do — he attempted to open the lid.

It stayed shut. The damn thing was locked.

Akihiko inspected the box. There was no visible keyhole or button to press. He considered it was a sign to let the box go, but then he looked at the Usami coat of arms again.

There — the motto. That had never changed from the time the coat was first formed. But this one was off; _a princess must hide_ — that wasn't it. It was something else, something even more ridiculous…

That was it. Akihiko touched the words of the motto and found he could spin them, like the dials of a combination lock, each one revealing different words as he scrolled them by. He fiddled with the box until he got the correct motto to show —_ the king shall provide_.

There was a click. Carefully, Akihiko opened the lid. The box was lined in plush purple; on the bottom cushion sat a crumbling marigold and a golden locket in the shape of a heart. Inside the locket was very fine dark hair, like that of a baby's. Strange.

He emptied the box and felt along the sides. There, in the plush cushion, was a false bottom.

He removed the false bottom and carefully picked up what he discovered inside. As he read, Akihiko realized there was truly no reason to fear his mother after all.


End file.
